An Acquired Taste
by dwu
Summary: Time makes the heart grow fonder?
1. Prologue

Note 1: This takes place during Casey and Derek's senior year; and, is slightly AU in the sense that, although Casey and Derek still bicker constantly, they're fighting has lost some of its edge. However, considering how much they've grown in less than a year of living together, I don't think it's too much of a stretch that a quasi-friendship would develop.

Note 2: I used a few ideas from a fic from another fandom I abandoned a couple of years ago. It wasn't that great and few have probably read it, but just giving you guys a heads up if sounds familiar.

Note 3: Feedback is _strongly_ encouraged (and appreciated ;) )_  
_

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Morning, dumbass," Casey chirped sweetly as she sauntered into the kitchen.

Derek's head immediately cocked, bemused gaze following her as she passed him. She was clad in her normal weekend morning apparel: plain tank, pastel bottoms and a snarky smirk she reserved only for him. He titled his head in greeting. "Freakette."

She offered her own head tilt before glancing at the clock. "Why are you up so early?"

"Why are _you_ up so early?"

"I'm always up this early. To study," she said as if it were the most logical thing in the world to do. Her eyes twinkled a bit as she moved towards him and pinched his right cheek in a firm, but ginger gesture, "Remember, someone's gonna have to take care of you when your questionable charm and good looks finally fail you."

He smacked her hands from her face and smirked. "Like that'll ever happen."

"Riiight, how foolish of the peasant to suggest."

"You're pardoned. But, only this once..."

Casey offered a mini-bow before moving to open the fridge.

"Early practice," Derek finally muttered, "Playoffs are in a week."

"Well, that explains why you look like that." He was standing by the counter in his wrinkled boxer pants, hair disheveled and his face worn and grumpy. Even his pre-shave stubble looked angrier than usual.

Derek sent her a sideways glance as he buttered his toast. "What's your excuse?"

He watched closely, amused, as her head slowly reappeared from behind the fridge door. "Excuse me?"

"What? The princess can dish, but can't take?"

"The 'princess' happens to look great in the morning," Casey replied indignantly, "I moisturize."

"Oh, so that's what that gooey, green gunk is?" Derek said, feigning ignorance, "I just thought it was some sort of puss."

"The only puss in my life is you," Casey muttered as her eyes searched the fridge, now distracted by morning hunger, "Derek, where's all the milk?"

He burped proudly in reply.

"You're disgusting."

"Oh, but there is some left."

"Really?" Casey was a bit too perky as she looked up, "Where?"

"Right here," Derek said with a smirk, holding up a glass of milk. Casey's eyes narrowed as he continued, "And, soon to be in my _rock_ hard stomach."

"Unh uh," Casey declared, moving towards him, "You've already drank like two gallons; you're not getting the last glass. And you do _not_ have rock hard abs. Not on planet earth, anyway."

"Is this your way of asking nicely? 'Cause I'm not persuaded. Close, but not _quite_."

"Ugh, just—give it to me," Casey reached for the glass but Derek promptly stepped in her path, "Stop being a jerk, Derek."

But, Derek just shook his head and offered a smug grin in return. "Hey, hey: first come, first serve. At least that is what you said when you slammed the bathroom door in my face yesterday."

Casey huffed. "Well excuse me if I like to get clean before you infect everything."

"And it only takes an hour and tub of smelly bath wash to do it."

Casey glared and reached quickly for the glass, but Derek blocked her approach once more, this time holding the glass over his head. "_De-rek_."

"_Cas-ey_."

A playful struggle ensued as Derek held the milk before her and Casey reached in vain to retrieve it. She jumped up against him, and Derek's strong arm locked in her place so she couldn't grab the cup. "Someone's been working out," Casey mumbled.

"Huh—really—?"

She snatched the glass from his grasp before he could even finish. "You are so vain. Not to mention gullible."

"How can I not be when I look like this?"

"Have you _seen_ a mirror lately?"

"Funny," he said as she took a sip of milk, "But, not as funny as me sticking my finger in that milk."

"Ah!" Casey sprayed the liquid into the sink.

"Who's gullible, now, 'sis'?" he said with a smirk.

"More like health-conscious," Casey returned, "Who knows what I could catch from you?"

"You mean like coolness, popularity…"

"…rashes?" Casey finished sweetly.

"Speaking of rashes, some guy called for you last night. Something about a wild party and test results…"

Her swing was instant and he reflexively grabbed her arm pulling him towards him and into another wrestling match. Casey grunted as she struggled for control, "You are such a pig."

"Aww, I wuv you, too, Spacey."

"_Don't_ call me that," she spun out of his hold before placing him into a firm headlock, ruffling the top of his head in way she knew would annoy him.

"Nice move; did you learn that at cheerleading practice?"

"It's called aerobic boxing, dumbass; and yes."

"Well, I learned this in the rink," he shifted his weight under and hoisted her up unto his back in one swift move.

"Derek," she said warningly, "You know I'm afraid of heights."

He rolled his eyes. "You're like six feet off the ground."

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Six feet? That's a little generous, don't ya think?"

"Do you _want_ me to drop you?"

"No, I _want_ to be on the ground—like ten seconds ago."

"What are you two doing?"

Both teens froze, eyes shooting to George and Nora as they shuffled into the kitchen. George look grumpy and Nora quizzical as they regarded them.

"Um…homework?" Derek deadpanned.

"Nice, try, Derek," George ran a tired hand through his hair, "It's too early to be horse playing. Now put Casey down, and I promise you two can finish whatever inane fight you were having afterwards."

" She took my milk" "He took my milk."

Derek and Casey looked sheepish at their parents' blank stares, and Derek promptly set her upright. " "Sorry." "

"And don't you have practice soon? You're not even dressed," George continued as he opened the fridge, "And where's all the milk?"

They both looked poised for debate and George waved a tired hand, "On second thought, I don't want to know."

"Well, there's always some of Casey's oat grain cereal. I mean, it's not helping her lose any pounds, but it's worth a shot."

"You-"

"Casey," Nora cut in, quickly seeing the fight brewing, "Could we please have just _one_ meal in peace? A cease fire, if you will?"

Derek and Casey exchanged tight, polite smiles before going their separate ways in the kitchen.

"A short breakfast, Derek," George called from his searching of the cupboard, "You can't afford to be late again. You're captain."

Derek worked up his classic charm as he walked over to Nora, "And, this captain could _really _go for an omelet."

"Last time I checked he had two hands of his own," Casey muttered as she passed by him.

"I don't do cooking."

"Riight. Because cooking would involve serving others"

"Casey," Nora chided.

Derek settled for pulling a face at her and Casey replied with her own annoyed expression.

"It's so nice to see how they've matured," George muttered dryly.

Casey and Derek looked up from their mini-tug of war over the jelly jar. " "Huh?" "

George just shook his head. "Never mind."

"I'd be happy to make another omelet for you, Derek," Nora was saying from the stove, "Just, please, no more 'food puppets'."

"What? That was hilarious!"

"If you're in third grade—oh, wait, Marti _was_ the only one to laugh," Casey snarked.

"You were laughing on the inside," Derek mumbled in her ear.

"More like dying," she whispered back.

"You totally smiled."

"It's called grimacing."

"Grimacing or _grin_-acing?"

"_Vom_-it-ing."

"Or bickering," George interjected, hand on the side of his face as he watched tiredly.

"Would you like an omelet, too, honey?"

"That'd be excellent actually…"

Nora rolled her eyes, "Not you, George. Casey. You need to watch your cholesterol."

George's frowned, shoulders slouching, and Casey called, "No, thanks."

"Right, she's got to maintain her 'girlish' figure," Derek teased.

Casey planted a quick punch on his bicep. "This from the guy with spaghetti arms."

"_Firm_ spaghetti," he corrected, flexing a bit. The spectacle was far from unimpressive, but Casey settled for rolling her eyes and ignoring him.

"Here you go, spaghetti man," Nora quipped good-naturedly as set a full plate before him.

"Derek like," he said in deep, cave-man voice.

"I'll take that as a 'thank you'; and, you're welcome," she glanced a George and set a bowl of oatmeal before him, "George."

"Thanks," he grumbled.

Nora grabbed her own bowl and joined them. For a few glorious moments, there was silence.

"_Derek!"_

George let his head fall to the table with a groan and Nora rose from her seat, choosing to finish her meal elsewhere. Sighing, George soon followed.

"…are so immature," Casey was saying as they glared at each other, "Not to mention gross."

"And you have a stick the size of Quebec up stuck up your butt."

"No, I have a giant, walking, talking migraine of a step-brother."

"You said giant," Derek said, pointing smugly.

She rolled her eyes, "Figuratively, Derek."

"Still said it," he said over a mouthful of food.

Casey sighed, poised to retort when she suddenly asked, "Where'd everyone go?"

Derek glanced across the island at the two empty spots. "How should I know?"

And, with that a comfortable silence took the room as they finished their breakfast.


	2. Chapter 1

Note 1: I'm a bit too lazy (and disinterested) to deal with Sam / Casey drama in this fic. So let's just assume they dated and are cool now, or they never hooked up.

Note 2: Shorter "_II_" breaks signifiy a short period of time.

Thanks and, once again, don't be sigh with feedback. It's my crack.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"This doesn't make any sense."

Casey didn't bother to look up from her homework as she muttered, "Why? Because it's not written in hockey stats or girls' telephone numbers?"

"_Exactly_."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist a small smile as she flipped back a page. "What about the third one; did you get that?"

"Um," Derek scratched his head, " 47.23?"

Casey eyes widened and she leaned over the kitchen table, glancing over his work. "Derek, this isn't a numerical problem. They're variables."

"That explains why the division was so difficult," he said, squinting over her notes.

Casey sighed and dropped her pencil. "Are you even trying?"

"Yeah, but you're handwriting's horrible. What, did you write with your feet?"

"I was rushing to take _your_ notes."

"I was busy. We had an emergency hockey meeting."

"Right, so you just order me to take notes for you, like a secretary or something."

Derek snorted. "Like I would ever hire someone so difficult as a secretary."

Casey bristled, but Derek was oblivious as he grabbed the textbook.

She quickly snatched it back. "Okay, so was there a 'sorry' or a 'thank you' I missed somewhere in that sentence?"

"I don't know, Casey. But, since _you_ seem know everything, why you don't tell me?"

She huffed and moved to leave; but, after a moment, Derek sighed, and caught her by the forearm. "Thank you," he said, voice and eyes softening almost impercibly, "I'm sorry."

Casey searched his gaze for a moment, before finally returning to her seat. Derek exhaled. "Now can we please finish before the Oilers game?"

Her voice was quiet as she glanced at him. "Do you always have to rush through the moments when you're sweet?"

"Yes," he smirked. "What you'd get for number 7?"

"Let me see," her brows furrowed as she looked over her notes, "Something about…Derek being the biggest softy ever."

"What?" he grabbed it from her, "That's definitely a typo. It _should _read: 'Derek is a very, very manly man…man man'."

"I think someone needs their eyes checked," Casey murmured, head resting on her hand as watched him in amusement.

He leaned back and folded his proudly. "Three district titles would say differently."

"Well, you definitely didn't see that body check last game. Or, oh, wait was your plan to distract him by letting him pummel you?"

"My plan was to win. Which I did. What were you doing, filing your nails in stands?"

"Snoring," she said breezily.

"Trust me. _Everyone_ would've heard you if were snoring."

"Not if they were, too."

Derek sat up now, on guard as they broached one of the few topics that got him worked up. "Hockey is _not_ boring. It's an art form. Athleticism at it's finest."

"Pfft. Dancing is an art form. Hockey's just," she scrunched her nose in distaste, "Hockey."

"Dancing?" he feigned confusion, "Oh, oh you mean that little clumsy shimmy thing you're always doing."

She rolled her eyes, "I do not shimmy."

"No, you definitely shimmy. You could hurt somebody with that shimmy."

"The only person I want to hurt is you," she punched his shoulder and he was so used to it, he barely blinked.

"Oh, really?"

"Uh huh."

"Then keep singing in the shower."

She pounced on him and they fell to the carpet with two thuds, Derek taking the brunt of the force. "Cheerleading is _really_ building those triceps," Derek teased, pinning her down.

She giggled. "Check this one out," She tangled her leg in his and kicked, rolling them over.

"Nice," Derek had a breathless smile, "I'll have to try that on the ice."

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't get to spend so much time on the boards like you like."

"Oh, now's it's on." He rolled them over once more and another wrestling match ensued. The doorbell rang in the background, but could not deter them.

"Say I'm a god."

"_No_."

"Say it."

"Never."

"How's studying going?" Lizzie asked she came down the stairs and stepped over the dueling pair.

" "Fine." "

She sighed as she opened the door to Sam and another one of Derek's friend. "Hey, Sam. Toby."

"Hey, Lizzie," Sam greeted politely, "Where's Derek?"

"Wrestling with Casey."

"Again?"

"Who's winning?" Toby called, letting himself in.

"Okay, okay, _uncle_," Derek cried as Casey had him in a chin lock.

"Dude," Sam shook his head and helped a panting Derek up.

"Oh, hey guys," Casey's voice was breathy and her hair disheveled as she greeted them.

Toby offered a head nod. "Hey, Kelly."

"No, _Spacey_," Derek interjected, tossing an arm around her shoulder.

"It's Casey," she promptly corrected, "Don't listen to him. 'Derry's' still learning how to spell and say names correctly."

She smacked his arm away and Derek moved to put her into another lock hold, when Lizzie finally stepped in and intervened. "Okay, okay; I'm breaking this up."

Sam chuckled and helped her, pulling Derek away. "I had her man, I had her."

"Yeah, we know, Derek."

"You got nothing," Casey jeered from behind Lizzie.

"You guys are so weird," Toby said shaking his head. When his eyes settled on the flat screen he continued, "So are we gonna watch the game or what? I heard you guys had a sweet T.V."

Casey interjected, "Well, we were doing…"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Derek said, stepping in front of her, "Take a seat. Not that seat," he said, gesturing to his recliner, "I'll grab some snacks."

Casey was the picture of indignance as she crossed her arms and stepped into his path. "Why not just grab the ones we were using?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said obliviously, patting her arms as he passed her.

Casey rolled her eyes and followed, making sure to make a show of gathering her school supplies.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked, grabbing the chips.

"Going upstairs to study. You do remember what that is, right?"

Derek shrugged. "We can study when we're done."

"Or you can watch the game after we study."

Derek leaned in and lowered his voice, so the others wouldn't hear them. "_Or_ you could stop being a brat and sit down. A study break. 'You do remember what this is, right?' "

Casey's eyes narrowed, but she didn't resist as he ushered her back towards the T.V., firm hand on the small of her back.

When Derek reached his recliner, Lizzie looked up at him with a winning smile. "_Please?_"

He was staring disapprovingly at her, but, Casey chided. "Derek."

"Fine," he plopped on the couch between Sam and Casey, "But don't get used to it."

"Snacks," Sam said happily as he grabbed a bag from Derek's hand.

Toby clicked on the T.V. "Game."

"More like lame," Casey whispered, but Derek promptly shushed her. She rolled her eyes and sighed, "Here goes another hour of my life."

"_Casey_," Derek finally hissed, "This is hockey time, okay?"

She pouted. "Fine."

_I_

An hour and half later, Casey was snoring softly on Derek's shoulder while the others sat ,dejected ,on the couch.

"I can't believe they lost again," Lizzie grumbled.

But, Toby was staring in amazement at the chip bag. "I can't believe these chips are fat free."

"They're Casey's," Derek muttered, clicking off the T.V., "Organic or something."

Toby peered over Sam's shoulder. "Man, she's really out."

"Yeah."

"You think she's into me?"

"What?" came a chorus of voices throughout the room.

"Dude, you don't even know her name," Sam said, turning to him.

Toby just shrugged. "Chicks love it when we play hard to get," he looked over at Lizzie, "Right?"

"Well…"

"Don't answer that," Derek directed, waving a silencing hand. He turned back to Toby, "And, don't ask her that. What are you, challenged?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

"Be normal," Derek suggested. He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Look, I'll bring it up."

Toby sent him a wary look. "I don't know…"

"Trust me. I can be subtle."

_IIIIII_

"Toby likes you."

"What?" Casey turned from her dresser mirror and dropped her hair brush.

"He thinks your 'hot' ," Derek said nonchalantly as he stepped into her room, "His words, not mine."

"Toby? Toby who can't get my name right, Toby?" Derek just shrugged and Casey rolled her eyes. "Derek, if you're messing with me again-"

"I'm not," he held up his hands in defense.

"Toby?" she asked again.

He nodded. "Toby."

"Why are you even telling me this?" she asked after a moment.

"I don't know. Thought it might be fun."

She stepped closer and looked searchingly into his eyes until Derek was almost unnerved, "He asked you to say something, didn't he?"

"'Ask' is such vague word-"

"_Derek,_" Casey moved forward and struck his shoulder again. Derek just laughed.

"What? Was I supposed to do? Say no?"

"_Yes_." She started then, eyes widening with horror, "You didn't tell him I liked him, did you?"

"Well, do you?"

"I don't even know him. _He_ doesn't even know my name."

"He knows your name," Derek said, rolling his eyes. When she didn't reply, he moved closer and persisted, "Well, do you like him?"

Casey eyed him curiously. "Why do you care?"

"I dunno."

"Well, I don't know either."

There was an awkward silence as they stood there, staring and uncomfortable, but neither quite sure why.

"Umph!"

Derek and Casey sighed as Edwin and Lizzy collapsed into the room from where they were leaning against the door.

Edwin looked up with a crooked, sheepish smile, "Hey guys. What's crackin'?"

"Amateur," Derek said, shaking his head and helping them up, "Now, come on. Casey's gotta get her beauty sleep. Trust me, she needs it."

Casey rolled her eyes and Derek sent her smirk as he headed for the door. "Night, dorkus."

"Night, dumbass."

He closed the door then, but not before one last lingering look.


	3. Chapter 2

Note 1: In case it wasn't clear, multiple quotation marks (e.g. " "turtle" ") mean multiple people are talking simultaneously.

Note 2: Thanks for the feedback and encouragement :)_  
_

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"So word is Toby likes you."

Casey nearly jumped as Emily appeared from behind her locker door. "Um, what?"

"Toby Newsome? The awkwardly cute hockey player who just happened to be totally macking on you yesterday?"

Casey's eyebrows shot up. "How do you know these things?"

"I have my sources," beat, "Okay, so Derek told me."

"Derek was talking to you about Toby and I?" Casey asked, grabbing her books from her locker.

"What? Is it _so_ shocking that me and Derek talk? We're pretty much peeps, you know?"

"No, I just-" Casey shook her head, "Never mind."

"_So_?"

"So what?"

Emily rolled her eyes and sighed. "What's going on with you two?"

"I don't know; he's the one who brought it up."

Emily eyed her curiously for a moment before saying, "I meant you and Toby."

"Oh. Oh, right," Casey looked a bit sheepish as she shut her locker, "Um, nothing much, I guess. I mean, he stopped by…messed up my name…ignored me and…left."

Emily nodded repeatedly as they started down the corridor. "Classic 'hard to get'."

"Come again?"

"He's totally into you. That's what guys like him do when they like girls," she shrugged, "They think it's cool or something."

"I thought girls were supposed to play hard to get?" Casey murmured.

"That went out years ago, along with chunky heels."

"Hmmm."

"Oh, the jock block," Emily nearly squealed as they turned the corridor and approached the athletes' usual hangouts. When they passed the hockey players, Casey blushed slightly and glanced at Toby; but, she soon found her gaze falling on Derek. He was leaning against the lockers, expression unreadable as he stared at her.

"Hey, ladies," a couple of players called out.

"Emily. Reject," Derek greeted in typical fashion.

"Good morning to you, too, Fungus Head," she reached into her backpack and held out a brown paper bag, "And you forgot your lunch again," her voice turned saccharine sweet, "I left Animal Crackers in there for you, just like you like."

"Thanks," Derek said through gritted teeth as he snatched it from her.

Her smile was errily innocent as she looked back at him. "Anytime."

"Hey, Jessica," Toby greeted from beside Derek.

Casey was silent for a moment, busy exchanging childish looks with Derek, when Emily finally elbowed her. "Oh, oh me?" she said, caught off guard, "Um, hi, Toby."

"'Sup?"

"Nutin' much," she tried in her coolest voice.

Toby grinned, but Emily rolled her eyes and Derek made barfing gestures to his teammates.

"Cya."

"Yeah, see ya," Casey said as Emily pulled her away.

"Casey?" she hissed, "What did I tell you about using your 'hood' voice?"

"That I don't have one?"

"Exactly."

"Right." Casey nodded, mentally shelving the advice as they headed to class.

_IIIIIIII_

_You smell_.

Casey rolled her eyes as she read the crumpled note Derek passed her. Since they were both always bored in Calculus—Casey because she was ahead and Derek because he didn't care—they usually found stupid ways to pass the time. She scribbled something and passed it back to him. _Was that an excerpt from your diary?_

Derek smirked as he sent the next note. _It's a 'journal', not a diary._

Casey snorted and sent another note. _How old do you think Mr. Billups is?_

_1000, give or a take a century._

Casey covered her mouth to keep from laughing; and Derek sent another soon after. _What was up with you this morning?_

Casey frowned and wrote, _The animal crackers? I thought you actually like them, but were to embarassed to admit it.  
_

_No. You and Toby._

Casey brow's furrowed as she read the note. When she glanced over her shoulder Derek was watching her as the bell rang. She quickly gathered her books, tossed them in her bag, and met Derek at the door.

"I hope you didn't think you were being cool…'Jessica'."

Casey rolled her eyes, "I was just trying to speak his language."

"Idiocy?"

"No, gangsta—or whatever."

"Don't you mean 'whateva'?" he said with a smirk.

Casey sighed. "What's it to you anyway? I mean, obviously you think he's good enough for you to hang out with."

"Yeah, but I have no standards. _You_ on the other hand…"

"Me on the other hand, what?" she questioned, stopping and folding her arms defensively.

Derek shrugged. "You're a priss; you're picky. Anal even."

"And you're entirely over-interested in who I date."

Derek held up both hands in defense. "I'm just a concerned citizen."

"What, do you get a badge with that, too?"

"Nope. Only rugged good lucks and sparkling personality."

"Get a refund," she sniped, bumping his shoulder as she moved passed him.

Derek waved with a mock grin as she left. "Love ya, too, Case."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"So did you to talk to Casey yet?"

Derek rolled his eyes as he set his sandwich down. He, Sam, and Toby were sitting at their usual table for lunch,; and Toby had yet to drop the subject. "Yeah, we talked."

"And?" Toby persisted.

"She's, ya know…" he trailed off with a shrug and took another ridiculously big bite of his sandwich.

Sam watched him quizzically as Toby asked, "She's what?"

"She's a girl," Derek finally answered after swallowing.

Sam nodded in comprehension, "Which means she doesn't know what she wants."

"And _I _certainly don't," Derek continued. He cocked his head a bit, as if considering, "You're still in there, though."

Toby grinned goofily, "Sweet."

"But nothing freaky," Derek said around a mouthful of food, "It's Casey, alright?"

"And it probably wouldn't hurt to get her name right," Sam suggested, "Just putting that out there."

"I don't know, I think its working."

"_Why_ would you think its working?" Derek questioned, eyes wide with bewilderment.

"Did you see her earlier? She was totally flirting."

"She didn't know you were talking to her," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

Derek snorted. "She didn't even know you liked her, until I said something."

"But _now_ she does. And she's totally into me."

The guys just sighed as Toby smirked smugly. "It's all about the mystery."

Derek nearly choked on his food and promptly chased some water down to help swallow. "Are you giving _me_ girl advice?"

Toby held up a conciliatory hand. "I'm just saying, sure you're a lady's man. But, when it comes to Casey, you're just as clueless as the rest of us."

Derek's eye narrowed, but he was silent as took another bite.

_IIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Derek, have you seen my English book?"

Derek glanced up from his comic, but continued to read as he muttered, "So, I'm guessing you're talking to me now?"

"My lips are moving aren't they?" She sighed, "And, when was I not talking to you?"

"You were avoiding me," he said absently.

She shrugged. "I always avoid you."

"Yeah, yeah, but it was different," he said, waving a hand dismissively, "You were all huffy."

Her voice took on a sentimental, teasing tone, as she sat on the edge of his mattress "Oh, did you miss me, 'Derry'?"

Derek sighed dramatically and looked deep into her eyes "A piece of me died when you walked away that day."

"So how long do I have to hide for the rest of you to go?"

"Months, years at least."

She rolled her eyes and Derek reached under his pillow and tossed her the text book. Casey sent him a disbelieving a look. "Derek," she admonsihed, "You hid this just so I'd have to talk to you?"

Derek snorted. "Um…no. It was Marti's idea. I was just helping."

"Gotcha!" came Marti's voice as she skipped past the door.

Derek smirked and turned back to Casey's bewildered form. "Plus, I knew you'd come crawling back anyway."

"The day I crawl to you is the day my feet are paralyzed."

"Speaking of paralyzed feet, when's your next dance recital?"

Casey promptly smacked him upside the head but Derek just laughed. She settled on the mattress then, resting on her elbows as they lay on the opposite ends, her feet next to his head. "Don't you have a big game tomorrow?"

"Yup," he answered, eyes back to skimming his comic.

She played with a stray strand of fabric. "Are you nervous?"

"M'dunno," he muttered.

"Derek._"_

Her voice was gentle, and he finally looked up, testing her gaze before saying, "I threw up three times today."

She scrunched her nose. "Oh, is that what that smell was?"

"No. Edwin's trying some new aftershave."

"He doesn't shave."

"Tell me something I don't know he doesn't know."

"What? Never mind," she shook her head before sitting upright and drawing her legs in so they that they were fully facing each other, "You'll do fine. You always do," she smirked, "No matter how much time you spend tied up on the boards."

Derek sighed and set his comic down. "I can't shake their left defender."

"That's because you let him force you outside," Casey explained, "You have to deke fast and hit the middle hard,"Off his utterly blank look she continued, "What? I pick up on things."

"I…you…" he was almost speechless. But, then his eyes lit with realization, "You actually watch my games, don't you?"

She lifted her chin in defiance."Doesn't mean I enjoy it."

Derek snorted and gave her shoulder a quick shove. She shoved him back and they smiled at each other.

"Punk."

"Priss."

"You'll win," she said after a moment.

"Well, duh."

"Too bad I'll have to be there to watch. I can already imagine how bor…mmm..." she trailed off, head drooping as she feigned falling asleep.

Derek chuckled and pushed her over, holding her down and tickling.

"Ah. _Derek!_"

Marti came bounding into the room then and climbed on the bed, "Tickle fight!"

"Did I hear fight?" Edwin said as he jogged in.

"Yes, and the girls are taking over," Derek cried under Casey and Marti's dubble team.

"Edwino to the rescue!" The bed frame shook as Edwin did a cannonball jump o the mattress.

" "Edwin!" "

He muttered "sorry" before they launched into an all out wrestling match.


	4. Chapter 3

Once again, thanks for all the feedback ) It really makes a difference. And, lol, I've really enjoyed some of your responses. Okay, so I'll stop babbling now. Here's the next part.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Mmm, just five more minutes," Derek moaned, clutching his pillow in bed.

Edwin and Lizzie groaned at as they pulled at his bed covers. "You need to get up. It's game day," Edwin pleaded.

"No, what I _need_ is more rest." Derek grunted and pulled the covers back over his head, sending Edwin and Lizzie stumbling back.

"Should we get my mom?" Lizzie suggested.

Edwin shook head. "No, she's still trying to wake up my dad."

Lizzie sighed, turning towards the door to call out, "_Casey_!"

The bathroom door swung open soon after, a very annoyed looking brunette storming out of it. "Ismmhemstillmmasleep?!" she questioned, toothbrush still in her mouth.

""What?""

She held up her finger as if to signal 'one second' before jogging back into the bathroom. A few moments later she returned and asked, "How is he still asleep? It's _his_ game."

"He says he needs more rest," Edwin offered with a shrug.

"More rest, huh?" Casey marched over to his bed, yanked Derek's right ear, and shouted, "_GET UP_."

"Gah!" Derek shot up, clutching his ear as Casey stepped back, "What the-?"

"Now!" Casey ordered, cutting him off. She grabbed his towel from his dresser and shoved it into his chest.

"Fine!"

" '_Fine_'!" she mimicked, pulling a face at him as she stomped out.

Derek slowly climbed out of his bed, and Edwin nodded his head in approval. "She's good."

_III_

Derek and Casey were in substantially better moods, and the house back to its relative order by the time breakfast was served. Nora was setting dishes on the island' and the others moved around, grabbing drinks and silverware.

"Derek, we're totally set for today," Edwin was saying, "I've been doing the good luck dance for two weeks straight."

The others rolled their eyes as he spun into some ridiculous dance routine. "Who was the choreographer?" Derek quipped, "Spacey?"

Casey sent him a look, but Edwin just grinned proudly and popped his collar. "Nope. That's all E-diz."

"E-diz?" Lizzie said skeptically.

"E-diz. It's my stage name. All the cool cats are doin' it."

"Then why are _you_ doing it?"

Marti giggled. "Edwin's a cat."

"A cool cat," Edwin corrected, taking a seat.

Casey just snorted before walking over to where Derek was standing, and placing a pair of mittens on the counter beside him. They were black with white "D's" sewn into the palm. "Here."

Derek blinked. "Um, wha-what?

"They're mittens."

Derek eyed them warily. "I can see that."

"For good luck, silly."

There was an awkward moment as Derek just stared blankly and Casey watched expectantly.

"Oh, oh, _mittens_," Derek finally responded, "I'll just go ahead and grab my matching tutu. Don't wanna be tacky."

"Derek…"

"Or, oh, wait, do you think my pink pumps might go better?'

Casey winched, lips tight, as she snatched them from the counter. "Just forget it."

"Well, that'll be difficult." He laughed a little before sharing an amused glance with Edwin at the island, "_Wow_."

Casey was burning, eyes a mixture of hurt and utter indignation as she took a seat. But, Derek was predictably oblivious as he gestured to the salt shaker. "Hey, Case, pass the salt."

When she ignored him, glaring eyes glued to her plate, he tried again, snapping his fingers, "Hello, Spacey, you in there?"

"Obviously she's ignoring you," Lizzie said, passing the salt herself.

But Derek just eyed Casey in bemusement as she silently ate her meal. "Oh, the silent treatment. That's mature," he muttered dryly.

"Who are you to give me lectures on being mature?" Casey finally snapped.

"And another brilliant display of perseverance by Casey MacDonald."

"Argh," Casey huffed, slamming her fork down and stomping up the stairs, "I hope you break both legs…Not that I'll be there to see!"

"Oh, stop the presses. Casey won't be there to hold the team together."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes as her bedroom shut.

_II_

"Stop being a baby," Derek said, door suddenly swinging open as he marched in.

"Excuse me?" Casey stood from her bed, fuming.

"My game's in an hour; so get in the car, so we can go."

She folded her arms. "Can't. Have to wash my hair," she snarked.

"Never stopped you before," he bit out.

"Ugh! Get out!"

"No," he grabbed her arm as if to take her with him, but she quickly pulled from his grasp, "_What_ is your problem?"

"My problem is that you think you can just be an ass, treat me like crap, and still expect me to run off smiling to your stupid hockey game."

"It's not a 'stupid hockey game', it's the playoffs. So get in the stupid car!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Derek reached for her arm again and they ended up in an intense wrestling match, both grappling for control. "I'm _not_ going," Casey growled.

"Yes. You. Are," Derek grunted as they fell to the ground, "You can't miss this game."

"Like you'd even notice," she spat.

"If I wouldn't notice, do you really think I'd be doing with this you right now?

Casey clobbered the side his head. "Then why didn't you wear my mittens?"

"Because they're mittens!" he cried, rolling them over so he could restrain her.

She kicked his shins. "But, I made them for you."

"They're mittens!"

They struggled for a few more moments, before finally puling away, panting. "Are you coming or not?" Derek breathed, chest heaving.

Casey stood, dusting herself off in angry jerks, before saying. "Fine. I'll go. But, I'm not happy."

"Casey's not happy," Derek said, helping himself up, "That's new."

Casey huffed, turned and shoved him back down to floor before he was even upright. "Beast."

"Brat."

They glared at each before storming out the room.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"We won, we won, we won!"

Marti was chanting ecstatically and bouncing on Derek's shoulders as they all walked from the rink. "Yeah, we did, Marti. But, no jumping, okay. You're not as light as you used to be."

"She ate three hotdogs," Lizzie said, eyes wide.

Derek grinned. "No way?"

"Yes way."

He lifted up one hand for a high-five and she hit it, giggling.

"Forget hotdogs; you were incredible," Edwin ranted as he ran in front of them, "All deke, deke, shoot, shoot."

Derek's brows furrowed as he watched Edwin's spastic reenactment and set Marti down. "Um…thanks?"

"Yup, that's my son, right here," George was calling, huge foam finger waving in the air.

"And, that's embarrassing," Derek promptly pulled his arm down.

Nora smiled and took the free hand of a sullen George. "We're just all very proud of you, Derek."

"Not everyone," Derek said, sending Casey a sideways glance.

She was silent as they reached the sidewalk and Derek rolled his eyes. "You're such a spoiled a brat," he whispered in his ear.

Casey bristled, but, determined not to give in, wordlessly continued walking. Derek huffed as a few of teammates caught up to him.

"Good game, Venturi."

"Nice job."

Sam clapped a hand to his back, "Yeah, man, two goals."

"Off your two assists." They did some lame handshake and Casey and Lizzie rolled their eyes.

"Hey, Casey," Toby called, jogging up to them.

Casey's brow line shot up, caught of guard by his accuracy. "Oh, hey Toby. Great game," she added after a moment.

"Yeah, I was pretty good."

Derek's face was noticeably darker as he interjected, "You were in the game for ten minutes."

"Well, I thought he did wonderful," Casey replied, looking past him to glare at Derek.

"That last check was awesome," Edwin said excitedly, "You were all bam, and he was all 'ouch'," He grimaced as Derek smacked the back of his head, "_What_?"

"Yeah, well I should bounce. Gotta practice, stay in shape 'n' all," Toby said as he started off.

"Okay, bye."

Toby offered another head nod as he and Sam crossed the street.

"Casey's in _looove_," Marti sung by her side.

"No I'm not." "No she's not."

Casey and Derek glanced at each other, then glowered, before looking away.

"I say we eat massive amounts of pizza in Derek's honor," Edwin said, pumping his fist.

"On dad?" Derek questioned.

"Yup."

"I'm in."

They exchanged high fives and Marti hooted as George shook his head. "I should really see this coming by now."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Okay, so what's the 411?" Edwin asked as he and Lizzie met in the upstairs hallway.

"Casey wants an apology."

"And for what exactly?" Edwin questioned, crossing his arms.

Lizzie pulled out an index and cleared her throat. "She feels, and I quote, that 'Derek was wholly insensitive and disrespectful of her feelings, effort, and craftsmanship."

"And, Derek feels, and I quote," he stepped back and made a farting noise with his armpit.

"Ewww."

"I'm just the messenger," Edwin said with a shrug.

"Well, hold any further messages, please," Lizzie's face twisted in disgust, before continuing, "She wants an apology and…" she skimmed the note card, "His mp3 player for a week."

"Pfft. My client cannot meet those demands."

Lizzie cocked a brow. "Can't, or won't?"

"Okay, that's _it_!" Derek said, bursting out of his bedroom door where'd he been listening.

"Hey!" Lizzie cried, "You're supposed stay in your room until negotiations are over."

"She is not getting my mp3 and she is _definitely_ not getting my apology."

Lizzie held up a reasoning hand. "Look, can't we just-?"

"Oh that's rich, Derek," Casey cut off, stomping out of her own bedroom now, "You're the one who acts like a jerk, and I'm the bad guy."

"You're trying to extort me!"

"You wouldn't wear my mittens!"

Derek raised his hands in exasperation. "Well, duh! I'm a man; not a doll!"

"You're the furthest thing from a man I've ever met," she was marching back to her door when Derek called back.

"Why? Because I can say your name right and don't wear child's clothing?"

Casey took a deep, calming breath before turning back to him. "Okay, so maybe my gift wasn't the," she used air quotes, " 'Coolest' ever…"

Derek snorted.

"But, at least I was trying to be nice, to stop you from wetting yourself like a little pansy."

"I am _not_ a pansy," Derek defended, indignant, "Pansies wear mittens."

They were locked in a stubborn staring contest, when Edwin finally interjected. "What if Casey made you," he shook his head, "I don't know…a scarf instead?"

Derek crossed his arms, and was silent for a long moment, before finally, muttering, "That'd be okay."

Edwin turned and looked to Lizzie who looked to Casey who said, "Fine. But, only if he says he's sorry."

Casey nodded to Lizzie who turned to Edwin who turned back to Derek. "Fine," he sighed, "I'm s-I'm s-so-I'm sorr"

Casey rolled her eyes and waved a pardoning hand. "That's good enough."

"Thank _god_," Derek said, exhaling.

Edwin clapped his hands together."So it's settled then. Casey will make a scarf..."

"Of my color preference," Casey quickly interjected.

Edwin paused and pulled Derek over to the side to confer. "Unh huh, okay, alright," Edwin muttered as Derek spoke into his ear. He then turned back to the sisters, "He'll accept. But, no pink, purple, or yellow."

Casey leaned over and whispered to Lizzie, who nodded continously. "At all or as the primary color?"

"At all," Derek said firmly, "And, that's my final offer."

Casey tilted her head back and forth as if considering, before conceding. "Deal."

"Deal," Derek agreed, "So are we good now?"

"I guess so," Casey answered, slowly, "But does this mean I get to use your mp3 player?"

"Uh, not a chance."

"Derek," Casey near pouted, following him down the hall..

"No."

"Please?"

Their voices faded as they entered his room, and Edwin and Lizzie shook hands. "I think our work here is done," Edwin said.

Lizzie nodded. "It was a pleasure, as always."

"Yeah, we should do lunch."


	5. Chapter 4

Note 1: Thanks, thanks, THANKS for all the feedback. Seriously, guys, it means a lot to know people enjoy your work (I'm sure other fic writers can sympathize). Anywho, you guys rock. And, _yes_, this is a Dasey ;)

Note 2: This is slightly random. But a few people have requested a sequel to The Spark. I really enjoyed writing that fic, but as of now, I'm leaning towards no (We'll see though). But, thanks for the feedback and support for that, too.

Note 3: There's a reference here to a conversation from an earlier part. Hopefully, it will be clear. If not…bygones.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Derek, do these make my calves look fat?"

Derek rolled his eyes as Casey walked into his room for the third time that morning. "Maybe if I just sit still and play dead, she'll leave," he mused.

"I can hear you," Casey snapped.

"I _know_; that's why I said it aloud."

Casey sent him a stubborn look and set her hands on her hips. "I'm not leaving until you give me feedback."

"Fine," Derek stood up from his desk and glanced over her outfit, "It makes you look fat, ugly, and desperate."

"Hmm," Casey's eyes narrowed, but she spoke coolly as she asked, "Do I get to comment on _your_ outfit now?"

Derek snorted. "Do I look like I care?"

"No, you really don't," she replied, "In fact, you look like you just rolled out of bed, floundered around for a while, until finally, and unfortunately, some uncoordinated, mildly clean outfit stuck to you…"

Derek's smirk evaporated as she circled around him and continued.

"And, you're hair," she laughed a bit, "You try to front like you don't spend _twenty_ minutes each morning," she paused and whispered into his ear, "and sometimes at night, when you think no one notices—trying to make it look like you don't give a crap. But, really, you just end up looking like a Chia pet.

Derek's hand shot up to his head. "Hey."

"Now, let's see your coat," Casey said, stopping in front of him and gingerly lifting each lapel, "Sturdy, black, fashionable…"

"Thank you," Derek said lowly.

"At least it was the first one-thousand times you wore it," Derek's jaw clenched, "And, your cologne…"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Derek finally interrupted, brushing her hands off his coat.

She cocked a brow. "So how do I look?"

Derek leaned in. "You look _good_."

"_Thank you."_

He released a long, frustrated breath as she strutted out of his room; but, she quickly reappeared.

"Oh, yeah, and you forgot this."

She tossed him his newest garment: an orange knitted scarf. Derek snorted. "Um, no, I didn't."

"Then why was it on the floor in the hallway?" Casey asked, crossing her arms.

"I thought it was decorative."

"Derek, you said-"

"Look, I know what I said, okay. But, there is _no_ way I'm wearing that scarf."

_I_

"Hey, Derek. Cool scarf; I didn't know you knit."

"I don't!" Derek groaned as a group of cheerleaders passed his locker and turned the corner, "God, I can't stand this thing," he growled, pulling it off, and shoving it into his locker.

"Then why are you wearing it?" Sam asked.

Derek waved a dismissive hand. "Long story."

"You and Casey got in a fight again?"

"Okay, shorter than I thought."

"Dude," he shook his head as they started walking down the hallway.

"I know, I know, but she kept nagging. Something about feelings, arts and crafts, sensitivity…" Derek trailed off into senseless muttering.

"What?"

"Hey, don't look at me," he raised both hands, "I didn't get it either. What I _do_ get is I'm stuck with that stupid scarf for at least a week."

"Maybe you can accessorize; you know, spruce it up a little. Like a watch or a wristband to bring out the…" Sam faltered under Derek's look, "Uh, just forget I said anything."

Derek nodded his head as they entered homeroom. "That'd probably be for the best."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Derek, I need to borrow the car after school."

Derek glanced up from his conversation with Toby and Sam as Casey and Emily approached their lunch table. "I'm sorry, have we met?" he nodded to Emily, "Hey, Em."

"Hey, Dere-oh."

She was cut off as Casey quickly reached into his side pocket and took the keys. "Thanks."

"Unh unh unh, Spacey," Derek said, swiftly grabbing them back, "Didn't your mother teach you not to pick-pocket?"

She snatched them back. "Didn't yours teach you not to talk to strangers?"

Derek grabbed them back again. "No, but _yours_ loaned me the car for the day."

"Only after you promised to share," she volleyed, stealing them back.

"Hey, hey, let's make lunch, not war," Emily suggested taking the keys from Casey and sitting down at their table.

Toby nodded. "I'm down with that."

But, Derek grabbed the keys and held them up to Casey. "If I give these to you, do you promise to go back to your little table in Loserville—no offense, Em," he added a moment.

Emily frowned while Casey snatched the keys. "Deal."

"Good. Now be gone," when they hesitated, he repeated, "Be gone."

The girls rolled their eyes, but promptly left the table.

"Man, you're totally blocking," Toby grumbled as Derek turned back to them.

"No, I'm totally annoyed," he shook his head, "Mack on your own time."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Oh, my god. I'm totally poor and I don't even care!" Emily cried as she Casey burst through the front door decked with shopping bags, "That sale was _amazing_. Like world-ending-clearance sale amazing."

"I know," Casey was almost breathless with excitement, "I can't wait to try all this-ahh ahh!"

They were hit with a series of darts from the living room. "_Derek!_"

"What?" he said, laughing as he, Sam, and Edwin came from behind the couch, "I thought you guys were happy. We just wanted to celebrate with you."

"Since when is pelting someone with darts celebrating?"

"In some cultures it's considered an honor," Edwin supplied.

"Ugh, you guys are so immature."

"And you guys are _hilarious_. 'Ah, ah!'" he mimicked their surprised reactions.

The others started laughing and when Emily joined in, Casey promptly elbowed her. "What? It was sorta funny."

"I'll get you for this," Casey threatened Derek.

"In case you didn't notice, I'm not the only one with a gun."

"Yeah, but you probably orchestrated it."

"_Of course_ you would blame me."

She crossed her arms. "Well didn't you?"

Derek was silent for a moment, before replying, "That's not the point."

"I'm going upstairs," Casey huffed, grabbing her bags.

Emily picked hers up, too, and started following after. But, they were only halfway up when the boys started firing again.

"_Derek!_"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

Casey and Emily were finally settled about a half-hour later when Derek poked his head in through the door. "Hey, we need a fourth person."

Casey rolled her eyes. "We're trying to read."

"For what?" Emily asked, dropping the magazine.

"Mountain of Monster Explosions," Derek walked further into the room, "I wouldn't normally ask, but it's getting kind of boring beating Edwin all the time. So, we need someone worst than him to play."

"Cool," Emily stood from her seat, but Casey interjected.

"Hey, we were reading," Off their looks she continued, "It was fun…kind of."

Derek walked over to her and placed a placating hand on her back, "Come on, Case. You can either stay up here and _read_ for hours; or, you can come down stairs and get beat by me, Sam, Edwin…and probably Emily."

"Is there a third option?"

"No, let's go," Emily said, taking her hand, "You might even enjoy it."

"That's doubtful."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Oh, yeah, oh yeah; who's yo daddy? _Who is yo daddy?!"_

Derek, Sam, Edwin and Emily watched wide-eyed as Casey hooted and did a victory dance around the controller.

"You. Just. Got. Served," she jeered, pointing to each of them with every word.

Sam's mouth fell open. "_How_ did she do that?"

"I have no idea," Emily muttered.

Derek just covered his face with his hands. "This is _not_ happening,"

"Yes, it is," Casey pried away his hands, grabbed one and pulled him up to his feet, "And, you owe me a banana split. Pronto."

"Dude," Sam shook his head again.

"I want to see a lawyer," Derek demanded, "I have rights."

"Rights which you waved when you entered a verbal contract," Edwin informed.

"Objection!"

"Overruled," Casey laughed as she pulled him into the kitchen, "You are such a sore a loser."

"And you're a one hit wonder. No way you'll beat me again."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Derek, I won five times in a row."

"I told you, I had th-that thing in my eye."

"What? A tear?"

Derek sighed and swung the fridge door open. When he grabbed the bananas and Cool Whip she was still there, sitting atop the island. "What? Are you going to watch?"

"Every precious second," she answered sweetly.

"Would you like me to do a little dance, too? Maybe one of your numbers?" He wiggled around in imitation.

Casey snorted. "I'm sorry; was that supposed to be an impersonation of me, or a seizure?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Hey," Casey laughed and sent a playful kick to his backside. "Work, slave, work."

Derek groaned as he grabbed the ice cream, "Could this day be any more degrading?"

"We can only hope."

He rolled his eyes and Casey studied him for a moment before murmuring, "Hey."

"Hey, what?" He glanced up from the dish.

"You did great," Off his confused look, she continued, "In the playoff game."

"Late, much?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, well I was kind of insanely mad at you 'n' all, so I didn't quite get around to saying it…But...I just wanted you know."

"Hmm," Derek said as he squirted the syrup on top, "Hadn't really noticed."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Pfft. You were complete ass about it."

He shrugged and smirked. "I'm always an ass."

Casey grinned, eyes twinkling. "Yeah, but it was different. 'You were all huffy'."

Derek ducked his head, smiling a little, before looking up and spraying whipped cream all over her face.

"_Oh!_" Casey jumped down, wrestled for control of it, and sprayed some back at him.

"Hey, hey, watch the hair," Derek cried, grabbing the other end, "I work hard on it, remember?"

"Can't be the worst than the gel you're already using."

"And, this," he sprayed some more in her face, "Can't be worst than your makeup."

Casey sprayed him again, but, Derek just laughed and started catching it in his mouth. "Eww, gross," she giggled. They continued on a little longer, before Casey finally interjected, "Hey, wait; I actually want to eat some of that, too."

"Fine, but I win." He sprayed her once more before grabbing a towel.

"Big baby," Casey said, wiping her face. She sighed and glanced at her sweater, "I don't know if all of this will come out."

Derek snorted. "Too bad I wasn't wearing my scarf."

Casey smacked his arm, then laughed as she looked up at his face.

"What? _What_?"

"You have--you have a little," she moved towards him, but his hand instantly grasped her wrist.

"Unh uh; no way I'm falling for that one."

"Okay," she stepped back slightly, "If you want to keep walking around with a white mustache…"

"Fine, but no funny stuff. Let me see your hands."

Casey rolled her eyes and held them up for inspection. When he was satisfied, he nodded for her to proceed. "Weirdo."

But, playfulness left them as she stepped closer, against him. They stared at each other for a moment, wordless, before she reached up, pressed her thumb to his lip, and slowly brushed the whipped cream from his mouth. They're eyes met again and Derek shivered slightly. "Casey-"

"Yeah?"

"I-" She interupted him with another blast of whipped cream to his face, "...Am going to kill you."

"Ah!" Casey squealed as he grabbed the syrup and the food fight began.


	6. Chapter 5

Note 1: Whoot, whoot, and whoot back at you guys. Feedback makes me happy, can you tell? Much love to all the reviewers, and happy birthday (feliz cumpleaños), Chica ;)

Note 2: Okay, I had a lot of fun writing this. Probably too much, lol. Hope you guys enjoy, too.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"This is your last chance to back down."

"Do I look scared to you?" Casey stepped into his space, "We can do it anytime, anyway, anywhere."

"Actually, you can't," Edwin said from beside them, "There's really too many wires and controllers to do it upstairs."

"Well, bring it," Derek goaded, taking a seat and grabbing his controller.

Casey quickly joined him on the carpet. "He has jokes," she observed, "But, does he have game?"

"You two have been spending _way_ too much time together," Lizzie said as Edwin stepped in front of the television set. He was clad in a black and white striped tee, and wearing a whistle.

"Okay, so you guys know the rules. Best of five; _but_ you have to win by two games. _No_ exceptions."

"And, no peace until this is over," Lizzie muttered, rolling her eyes.

"I want a clean fight. No tickling, blocking, crying, or unnecessary bodily functions-"

"_While_ playing," Derek amended.

The girls' faces twisted in distaste as Edwin nodded. "Amendment duly noted. Okay," Edwin stepped from the T.V., "Ready, set," he blew the whistle and the game began.

"You are so going down," Derek said as the first building exploded.

"Show me what you got, stud."

"That's the _third_ time someone's said that today."

Another building exploded. "And, the first time it wasn't you?"

"Ouch," Lizzie snapped her fingers twice, but Derek just rolled his eyes.

"You'll be eating those words."

"And, you'll be eating my dust."

Their fingers clicked frantically as they faced off.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"_Casey, Derek. It's time for dinner!"_ Nora called again as she and George set the table, "My, god, what has gotten into those two?"

"Are you kidding?" George snorted, "They're not fighting, the house isn't burning down; who cares?"

"I know, I just," her brows furrowed for a moment in thought, "I dunno. Doesn't it seem like they may be a little _too_ into this game?"

"Nora, I think you're overreacting. We should just take this as the mysterious blessing that is, and leave it alone."

She sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Tacos," Edwin pumped his fist as he took a seat at the table, "Alright!"

"Stop doing that. You look ridiculous," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes.

Nora sent her a disapproving glance. "Lizzie."

"Sorry, but he's always doing it; and at school, too. It's embarrassing."

"It's _cool_," Edwin countered.

"Yeah, if you're a mascot."

"Edwin, why don't you try jumping or clapping instead?" George suggested.

Edwin rolled his eyes. "Uh, yeah, dad; I'll get right on that."

"It's taco night!" Marti beamed and jumped into her seat, "No more nasty vegetables."

"Marti," George admonished.

But, Nora just shook her head. "No, it's fine, and…_where_ are Casey and Derek? _Casey_, _Derek!_"

"_Just one more round!_" Casey called back.

"_Now!"_

A pair of groans preceded their entrance. "We're coming, we're coming," Derek grumbled as they took their seats.

"Aren't you guys bored yet?" Edwin questioned, "You've been playing for hours."

"We're still tied," Derek muttered as he grabbed a beef taco.

"Though we should have been done rounds ago," Casey complained, "Derek cheated."

"I did not cheat."

"You burped so loudly the ground shook."

"That was a _necessary_ function."

"Ugh, whatever."

Nora eyed them curiously as she set her glass down. "And, do you two have anything else to comment on—besides video games?"

Derek shrugged. "Nope."

"Not really; Can we be excused?"

"_No_," Nora answered, eyes wide, "It's dinner, so eat dinner."

Even George looked alert now as Derek and Casey began stuffing their mouths.

"_wm_You_m_can't_m_keep_m_up," Derek challenged, grabbing another taco.

"_wm_Just_m_watch_m_me," Casey grabbed another of her own.

"Okay, okay, you're excused," Nora said, shuddering.

" "_wm_Thank_m_you," " They replied, standing.

"But, no video games," Nora qualified.

"_Mom._" "_Dad._"

"No," George ordered.

"Fine."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Yes!"

"Shh, we're gonna get caught."

"Then stop losing so loudly," Casey taunted as her building exploded.

They were sitting in the dark, clad in pajamas as they whispered to each other.

"I can't believe you're this good," Derek muttered when their buildings exploded simultaneously.

"I'm a woman of many talents."

"And annoyances."

Casey rolled her eyes and leaned into him as her truck turned up the mountain. But, when Derek got distracted by the press of her bare skin against him, he shoulder-bumped her away.

"I don't have cooties," Casey grumbled.

"Yeah, probably something much worst."

"_Hey_…"

"Relax, relax. I know you're the Virginal Casey. They could probably make a statue after you."

"What makes you so sure?"

Derek's brows shot up to his hairline; and, Casey quickly ceased the opportunity to beat him. "Bam! Game over."

"That was devious," Derek said, nodding, "Me like."

"Learned from the best."

"That you did."

They did some intricate hand shake, before going back to the game. But, when Casey checked the timer, she gasped. "Derek's it's almost four."

"Well, we can't quit now."

"Why not?" she yawned, "I'm tired."

"Fine."

"Good," she set her controller down and moved to stand when he continued.

"But, that'll count as a forfeit; so I win."

"_What?_"

"Standard gaming procedure," he said a-matter-of-factly.

"_No way_ I let you win," she growled, retaking the controller.

"Let's do it then."

"Oh, we'll do it, alright," she promised, "We'll do it all night."

There was an awkward moment as they looked at each other, then looked away before re-starting the game.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"What happened to you?" Edwin asked as Derek shuffled into the kitchen, face painted with fatigue.

"Trouble sleeping," he rasped and plopped on a stool.

"You mean how you didn't?" Lizzie questioned, "I heard you and Casey playing last night."

"And, this morning," Edwin supplied, "You two have a serious problem."

"Well, out with it: who won?" Lizzie waved her hand, showing vague interest as she poured her milk.

"No one."

"No one?" Edwin repeated.

"_No one_," Derek let his head fall into his hands, "I can't beat her. Every time I think I've got her she-she just," his head fell to the table, unable finish.

"Have you guys ever thought about, I dunno, stopping?" Lizzie deadpanned.

"Stopping is _not_ an option," Derek said, now sitting upright, "I'm taking the priss down," he grabbed his bag and headed for the door, "I don't care if I have to die doing it."

He stormed out of the house and Edwin and Lizzie turned to each other. "Do you think we should tell him he's not wearing pants?" Lizzie asked.

Edwin shrugged and put a pop tart in the toaster. "He's a big boy. He'll figure it out."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Casey, oh my god, why are you crying?" Emily asked, rushing to her locker where Casey was weeping hysterically.

"I am _so_ tired."

"Then sleep. School's almost over."

She just sniffled and shook her head. "I can't."

Emily glanced around as they began to capture the attention of others. "Casey," she said firmly, "You have to hold it together. I mean at least wait 'til we get to history to breakdown. No one will notice there."

"Okay, okay," she said, standing straight and brushing tears from her face.

Emily sighed and rubbed her back soothingly. "Now, are you going to tell me what's going on? Are George and Nora fighting?" her eyes widened in horror, "Oh, god, not Nana Ruth?!"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Casey shook her head and Emily released a relieved breath.

"Then what is it?" Casey mumbled something, but she couldn't understand, "What?" She mumbled a little louder, but Emily still couldn't decipher, "Huh?"

"Mountain of Monster Explosions!" she cried. Several students stopped and glanced at them for a moment, and she snapped, "Hey, hey move on, move on. Nothing to see here."

But, Emily was just shaking her head when Casey turned back to her. "Casey—

"I know, I know; it doesn't make sense. But, I just," she exhaled, face lighting with passion, "Get this intense, pulsing thrill from beating him over and over and over again."

Emily blinked. "Um, I'm not entirely sure that's healthy."

"Well, if it's wrong, I don't wanna be right," Casey declared.

Emily eyes bulged and she looked around again. "Oh, god, please don't burst into song."

"I am going to win. No matter what it takahakes…mmm," she trailed off into a viscous yawn, and Emily caught her as she nearly fell.

"Okay, so she's down for the count."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Are you alright?"

Casey looked up in surprise from her coffee as Derek marched into the kitchen, book bag hanging haphazardly off his shoulder. "Um, yeah, why?'

"I heard you were crying in the hallway," he said, setting his bag down and moving closer.

She smiled a little. "Oh, Derek that's sweet, but it's just from fatigue-"

"Fatigue?" he asked, stepping back.

"Yea-"

"Then snap out of it! Walk it off; walk it off!

She started a bit and stood from her stool. "I'm trying, I am."

"You think I'm not tired? You think I didn't almost fall asleep in the car today?"

Casey eye's widened and she smacked him. "Derek, you drove? What, are you challenged?"

"_Owww. _Sam was driving."

"Oh…sorry."

"We need to settle this right now. Before I go _insane_."

"Yeah, but we can't keep playing down here," she glanced around the kitchen and into the living room as she whispered, "The others are starting talk," when he didn't respond she turned back around, "Derek. Derek?"

He jumped up from the wall where he was leaning. "I'm up, I up!"

"Ugh," she grabbed his hand pulled him with her, "Come on."

_IIIIIIIIII_

"God, your cologne is suffocating me," Casey griped as they sat, squashed against each other in the upstairs closet. They'd cleared it out and set a small T.V. and game system up.

"And, you're hair's in my face. What, does it have a life of its own?"

"It's probably trying to strangle you. I know I would I if could _move_ anything."

"You are so-"

He was cut off as the door swung open, revealing Edwin, Lizzie, Sam, and Emily. They were each crossing their arms and staring disapprovingly. Marti's head peaked past the other side of the door, "Busted!"

"Oh, hey, guys," Casey stumbled, quickly concealing the game controller, "We were just-um," she turned to Derek, "What were we doing again, Derek?"

He sent her an accusing look before sputtering, "Spring cleaning. You know, just clearing out some old junk."

"It's winter," Lizzie said, "So, get out of the closet."

Casey huffed as she and Derek crawled out. "What is this anyway?"

"It's an intervention," Edwin answered.

"An _intervention_?" Derek threw his hands up, "This is ridiculous."

"As ridiculous as huddling into a closet to get your next fix?" Emily countered.

"Hey," Casey cried, "I'll have you know that I am very responsible. I can quit any time I want to."

"Casey, your hands are shaking."

"_I am so tired_," she collapsed into tears in Emily's arms.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's gonna be okay."

"Promise?" she asked, looking up with teary eyes.

"I promise."

"We're gonna have to take the X-box, though," Sam said, moving towards the closet.

But, Derek quickly obstructed his path. "Unh uh. Not under my watch. Look, I don't know what the big deal is anyway. I'm _fine_. Sure, I'm a little tired, but I could go all day. Look," he reached up and started doing pull ups on the door, "I'm golden, I-"

_Thud_. They all looked down and winched as he laid on the floor, snoring.

Casey sniffled and looked up. "That's a forfeit, right…right?"


	7. Chapter 6

Note 1: You guys rock, as always. Thanks for participating in my insanity.

Note 2: I don't really have another note, but I just wanted to pretend I did :)

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Only a few more blocks, blimpy; you can make it."

Casey glowered as she sped up, running at his heels. "Don't call me that."

"I'm just trying to motivate you."

"By making fat jokes?" she rolled her eyes as she finally caught up to him, "I'm inspired, really."

"No, what you are is slow."

Casey reached to smack him but he took off sprinting as they reached their house. "Show off."

"Hey, hey, don't sweat it. You're in pretty good shape—for a chick."

"Thanks…I think."

They met at the porch and Derek held the front door open, suprising her. But he quickly repaid her by blowing air at the back of her neck."Stop it."

She stepped away from him and unzipped her fleece. When Derek pulled off his sweatshirt and was completely dry, she frowned.

"Did you even break a sweat?"

"Well, a little from laughing at you so hard."

Casey pouted as she looked down and pinched her sides and her stomach. "I don't blame you; I look like a bloated whale."

"You're not fat, okay?" Derek rolled his eyes, "You're..." he paused and looked at her, hand scratching the back of his head, "You know… pretty, or whatever."

It was genuine, if not articulate; and, Casey flushed slightly. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Huh?" He was alreay poking around the fridge.

She sighed. "Nothing."

"Hey, the guys are coming over today," he said, twisting open a Gatorade, "You're more than_ unwelcome_ to join us; but, I'm sure you will anyway."

"I'm sorry," Casey squinted. "Was that an invitation?"

Derek winked before taking a sip. "Emily's not invited either."

"You know, it's not a crime to want to spend time with me."

"Well, that's good to know. I'll keep that in mind in case the desire ever arises."

"Oh, I think it's already arisen." She hadn't met for it to come out like that; but was determined to match his gaze as his brows spiked.

"Um, alright," Derek cleared his throat before waving a disinterested hand, "Well, the ball's in your court," He smirked, "And, I'm sure you have plenty of riveting activities scheduled: reading the dictionary, watching paint dry, napping…"

"All of which are more engaging than an evening spent with you," she finished with an even smile.

"Yes, but is paint charming? Can a dictionary burp the alphabet? Or a nap so mightily entertain you?" He moved towards her so that they were standing close, "I don't think so."

"Ask me to stay," she demanded, leaning closer.

"I just did."

She stared at him, reading his eyes, before saying. "What time?"

"Around six, seven."

"And, what would we be doing?"

"I was thinking barefoot water skiing," he titled his head to each side, "Followed by a movie and some games."

"Oh, that's creative."

"Riveting," he said with a toothy grin.

Casey chewed her bottom lip, contemplating. "I dunno, Derek. I mean, I already ordered that giant vat of paint and everything…"

"And with the dictionary already here, and the beds tucked in…."

She smiled, cheeks dimpling. "Exactly."

"It's a tough choice," he conceded. After a moment he added, "Toby, aka T-Bone, will be there."

"And?" Casey asked, crossing her arms.

"_And_, since you guys have this whole star-crossed lovers thing going on…" he trailed off and stepped back to lean against the counter.

"Derek," she began, " We've exchanged more words in this one conversation than Toby and I have…well, ever."

"Sure, he can be bit taciturn, but…" Casey's eyes widened, "S.A.T. Prep."

"_Oh_, oh okay."

"Anyway, I was just throwing that out there. So if it makes a difference…"

"Seems to make a difference to you," she remarked.

"Casey," Derek's face softened with sentimentality, "You're future embarrassments and heartbreaks will _always _make a difference to me."

She sighed and thought for a moment before folding her arms. "Honestly, I'm not impressed. At least not until he works up the nerve and/or ability to have a full conversation with me. Although, getting my name straight was a big step."

"Casey, you're setting the bar too high," Derek explained, "Very few men have my wit and charisma."

She snorted. "_Thank god._"

"I know; I'd have a lot more competition."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Drinks?"

"Check."

"Snacks?"

"Check."

"Plans?"

"Check. Dad and Nora are on a date and Lizzie's doing girl stuff with Marti."

"And you?"

"Creating a spray that makes your socks smell clean even when they're dirty."

Derek ruffled his hair. "You done good, Edwin," he slipped him some change, "Don't spend it all in one place."

Edwin rolled his eyes, but was silent as he headed for the steps. Casey passed him on the way down. "Let me guess?" she said, meeting Derek in the living room, "You convinced Edwin to be your slave for the day and then stuck him with fifty cents?"

"No, a dollar this time actually," he shrugged, "I was _moderately_ moved by your speech on abusive child labor."

Casey sighed. "Well, at least I know you're listening—if not caring."

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry," Derek shook his head as if coming back from a trance, "See, I saw your lips moving and everything, but I didn't _quite_ catch the words."

Casey grabbed a couch pillow and socked him with. "Did you catch _that_?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth," he said, smacking her with his own.

"_Hey_."

They continued exchanging blows until Lizzie walked in and asked, "Are you guys having a _pillow_ fight?"

"Hey," Derek snapped, "Don't you have a fourth grader to be entertaining?"

"I know, I know," Lizzie grumbled, going into the kitchen, "I got your note with the change in it."

Casey crept up and struck the back of his head. And, he was poised to retaliate when the doorbell rang. "I'm not through with you," Derek warned, pointing a finger at her.

"Oh, please," she smacked his hand down and rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Sam greeted when Derek opened the door, "We come bearing rice cakes."

"Rice cakes?"

He shrugged. "It's all we had at the house."

"Is Casey in?" Toby asked, glancing past Derek.

"Casey?" Derek feigned confusion, "Oh, oh _Casey_. Bossy, prissy," he held his hand up as a marker, "About yay tall?"

"_About_ to kill Derek," Casey sighed as she stood beside him, "I'm right here."

"Cool. I mean…whatever."

Derek rolled his eyes and let them inside, closing the door behind him.

"Emily coming, too?" Sam asked as he tossed the rice cakes on the coffee table.

"Yeah, she's…" he glanced at Casey to fill in the blank.

"Power walking over," Casey finished. When they just stared at her, she said, "What? It's great exercise and easy on the joints."

Derek smirked. "So is aerobic boxing, I hear."

He and Sam snickered, but Toby nodded his head in approval. "Girl boxer, cool."

Casey ducked her head. "Well, it's not boxing _exactly_…"

"But, why bore him with the details?" Derek interjected, slipping a firm arm around her shoulders, and leading them into the living room.

"I'm not bored," Toby insisted.

"That's because you haven't heard her recite Shakespeare yet."

"It's not recitation; it's dramatic reenactment. And, it's a legitimate hobby, just like anything else."

The doorbell chimed again and Derek muttered, "Saved by the bell."

He opened the door and Emily stepped in, decked in a trendy wind-breaker. "Hey guys. _Wow,_ was that a rush. I'm so refreshed."

"Yeah," Casey said, "And you can really start to tell the difference. Especially in the hips."

"Okay, okay, alright, that's enough," Derek cut off, now tugging both of the girls into the living room, "How 'bout a little less girl talk, and a lot more action movie."

"Hey," Casey cried, pulling from him, "I thought we were gonna watch a drama."

"They only drama I want to see is people running from exploding cars."

"What is it with you and explosions?"

"I'm a guy; it's genetic."

"Hey, it's no big deal," Sam mediated, "We can just take a vote."

Derek rolled his eyes and marched over to the D.V.D. shelf. "_Fine._"

_II_

"So, all in favor of," he rolled his eyes as he lifted the DVD, "_The Wedding Planner_, raise your hand."

Casey's lone hand shot up in the air. After a moment, Toby's hand joined hers. Derek blinked. "I'm sorry, you must be confused-"

"No, no," Toby shook his head, "That's the one with J-Lo, right?"

"Yeah, man, but _Deadly Daredevils_ got Jolie," Sam informed.

Toby's brows furrowed slightly. "Nah, I'm gonna stick with Casey. I mean, this really was Matthew McConaughey's breakout role, know what I mean?"

Casey beamed, but Derek quickly interjected, "No, but I do know that your guy card is officially under investigation."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Why? Because he likes romantic movies?"

"_Yes_," Derek answered before lifting the next one, "And, all in favor of _Deadly Daredevils_?"

He, Sam, and Emily raised their hands.

"Em," Casey hissed.

"Hello, Ben Affleck. And, don't try to act like McConaughey had nothing to do with your vote."

"_Deadly Daredevils_ it is," Derek announced, moving to pop the D.VD. in, "Casey, would you be a doll, and grab some more snacks for everyone?"

Her mouth dropped open and Derek smirked before Toby offered, "I'll help."

"Oh, okay," Casey smiled as he stood with her and walked her to the kitchen.

_I_

"What, did you two get lost?" Derek snapped when they returned ten minutes later.

"No, we were just talkin', dude, chill."

"I will chill when I have chips in my mouth," Derek groused.

Casey threw a bag at him and it hit him in the face.

"Hmmm, I guess you don't cover catching at practice, huh?"

"Too busy scoring goals," Derek bit back, ripping the bag open.

They exchanged glares as she took a seat on the couch beside Toby.

"Hey, hey," Emily said, reaching over to smack Casey's leg, "You two promised to get along if we were gonna to do this, remember?"

" "We are," " they insisted.

"Then why don't you try acting like it?"

Derek shot up in his seat. "That's where I draw the line."

Sam grabbed the remote. "And, that's where I press 'play',"

_IIIIIIIII_

"_Awesome_ explosion!" Derek cheered as the end credits began. He turned to where Casey was sitting, "Now _that's_ entertainment."

"Oh, yeah. They were robbed of the Oscar," she deadpanned.

"You didn't enjoy it?" Derek seemed to deflate a little when he glanced over at her.

"No, and neither would anyone with an I.Q. and an ounce of taste."

Derek's brows furrowed as Toby agreed, "Dude…It lacked plot."

"Yeah, but what it lacked in plot it made up for in _outrageous_ explosions," Derek reasoned. He glanced around the room, "Anyone with me here?"

"I feel ya," Sam offered.

They raised fists of solidarity from across the room.

Emily shrugged. "There was Ben Affleck and popcorn; I'm happy."

"See, everyone's happy," Derek said to Casey, giving her shoulder a little shove, "Now, you be happy."

"I'll be happy if I can pick the game," She answered, lips pouting demurely.

Derek sighed. "I'm probably going to regret this, but…okay."

_II_

"Alright," Casey was explaining as she stood in front of the couch, "So first, everyone needs to line up alphabetically; _but_; and here's the crazy part, you can't use words," she finished, beaming.

"Casey," Emily started slowly, "We all already know each other."

"Oh, yeah, um, okay," her forehead wrinkled in consternation, "How about we all say really big words, and then guess if they actually exist?" Silence, "Okay, or-or we could try a puzzle," Sam coughed and Toby scratched his head. She faltered, "Origami?"

Derek cleared his throat and stood, a ginger hand on her shoulder leading her back to her seat. "Okay, I'm cutting you off."


	8. Chapter 7

Note 1: A wise man once said, "Reviewers rock my socks!" Thanks, guys :)

Note 2: Sorry for all the alerts. I had a lot of trouble formatting / editing this chapter for some reason.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Wait, what just happened?"

"Tripping."

"Bad call, much?"

"Tell me about it," Derek grumbled through a mouth full of chips, "That ref should have been fired years ago."

They were sitting on the couch together, Casey donning one of Derek's old Oilers hoodies and wearing a hockey cap backwards; and Derek wearing a matching Oilers head-ban and tee.

"I don't understand why he's doing that," Casey squinted, turning to Derek.

"And neither does _he_!" Derek's voice rose in dismay as the other team scored again. He groaned and let his head fall back, "Why; _why_ must they be so bad?"

"Forward's pretty good," Casey shrugged and nibbled on a rice cake, "Ugly though."

"You can afford to be ugly when you shoot that well."

Casey snorted. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

"Five times in the mirror every morning."

"So that's what that weeping sound is."

Derek shoved her shoulder and she shoved him back, their eyes still glued to the game.

"I think I'm finally starting to get it," Casey mumbled after a moment.

"Why I love hockey so much?"

"No, why they're so bad," Derek glanced over as she continued, "Bad coaching, bad plays, inconsistent defending…" she turned back to him, "Why do you like them again?"

"Does the Domination of the 1980s mean _anything_ to you?"

"Um," her brows knitted in contemplation, "The gradual dethronement of the Soviet Union?"

Derek looked at her then--face scrunched prettily as she sat cross-legged and swallowed up in his old sweats--and he was suddenly struck by how endearing it was. He felt his stomach flutter.

"Man, I think I have gas or something."

"Eww, Derek," she crawled to the other side of the couch.

"No, no wait. It's gone," he said, "Must have been something I ate."

Casey rolled her eyes."Well, considering you ate everything, that doesn't really narrow it down, does it?"

"Hey, hey; I saved you some rice cakes."

"With the sides chewed off," she grumbled.

Derek raised two hands in defense. "It's not my fault I have a fast metabolism."

"Sure, now you do. But one day it's gonna catch up to you," Casey warned, "And, I'm going to laugh as you lay prostrate and balding on this couch."

"You know what? Just for that," Derek reached over and grabbed the rice cake from her hand, devouring it.

When he grabbed the rest of them, Casey snatched his chips.

"Leggo my chips," Derek ordered as she held a chip up to her mouth.

"Stop eating my rice cores!"

They were staring each other down when the phone rang. They glanced at the phone, back at each other, and then both launched across the couch to get it.

"For someone who never gets phone calls, you sure are spunky," Derek snarked as they struggled at the edge.

"And you're pretty eager for someone whose girlfriends can barely complete sentences."

She crawled over his back and Derek grunted, "Hey, watch it blimpy."

But, she just grinned in victory as she reached the phone…only to have an exasperated George snatch it from under her reach. He eyed the teens disapprovingly as he answered the phone. "Hello. Mmhmm, yes he is. One moment," he covered the mouthpiece with his hand, "Derek, it's for you."

"Aha!" Derek smirked and Casey sighed and moved from his back.

"It's Cindy."

"Ugh, just tell her I'm dead," When they both sent him disbelieving looks, he back tracked, "Or sick, whatever."

"Derek," George chided.

"Fine, fine," Derek rolled his eyes, took the phone, and jogged into the kitchen for privacy.

"You look very… 'fly' today," George said to Casey, grinning.

"Edwin's been giving you cool tips again, huh?"

"Maybe… a little. Is it obvious?"

Derek returned a few seconds later and handed George the phone. "There. Happy?"

"No, son. Just extremely proud of your sensitivity and work ethic."

"Yeah, yeah, that's great, pops. But, I'm trying to watch a game, so can we bond later?"

George just shook his head before heading back to his office. When he walked away, Derek sighed and plopped on the couch besides Casey, a lazy arm outstretched behind her. "So, what did I miss?"

"Another own-goal and a Geico commercial," Casey muttered

Derek snorted. But, when he turned to her she was frowning, gaze on the T.V.. He moved the hand behind her to toy with her cap. "What's up with you? Third own-goal hard to swallow?" he guessed.

"No, it's nothing," she said, shifting from him slightly.

Derek looked at her for a second, confused, before rolling his eyes and grabbing a root beer.

"How was your date with '_Cindy_?" she asked after a moment.

He took a swig of soda. "Fantastic…except for the parts where she laughed, talked, existed…"

"Told you she was an airhead."

"You say that about all the girls I date."

"And, I'm always right."

Derek turned to her and tossed his arm back across the couch so that they were facing each other. "Well, I'm sure you had plenty of time analyze that as you sat at home: lonely, dejected, eating ice cream straight form the carton," he said smugly.

"No, actually, Toby kept me pretty occupied."

"_What?_"

"I was just kidding," Casey said, rolling her eyes.

His shoulders relaxed a little, but he was glowering as he removed his arm and turned back to the screen. "Why would you even say something like that?"

"I dunno," Casey said with a smirk, "'Thought it might be fun.'"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Derek stop; it's not going to fit."

"Wait, I'm almost in."

"Derek…"

"Sure, it's a little tight but—aha, got it."

Casey rolled her eyes at the squished puzzle piece. "That's not the right piece."

"Who _cares_; we've been doing this for hours."

"It's been twenty minutes," Casey said, exasperated, "And, you have the attention span of a two year old."

"Sorry, _gram_s."

Casey looked indignant as she crossed her arms. "Hey. I spent two hours watching your pathetic little team lose…_again._"

"The Oilers are not 'pathetic', okay? They're legendary," Derek muttered as he tried the piece elsewhere, "And, at least there's scoring and violence in hockey."

"Yeah, it's spellbinding, really."

Derek sighed and reached for another piece. "What is this supposed to end up being anyway?"

"That's the fun part-"

"Oh, there's a fun part?"

But, she ignored him and continued on, "…you don't know until you figure it out. It's very satisfying."

There were a million comebacks on the tip of his tongue when his cell phone went off. He reached into his back pocket and flipped it open. "It's Sam. Something about a monkey show on Comedy Central."

Casey's face fell a little; but she quickly fixed it with a smile.

"It's okay. I can finish this on my own. It'll probably go by the faster without you bumbling anyway."

"And give you the satisfaction of a job well done?" Derek snorted, "I don't think so."

His lips quirked into a crooked smile and she returned it as he put away his phone.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Grrrrrr"

"Close, close. But, I'm still not feeling the inner rage."

"_Grrrr._"

"Better..."

"BACK OFF, BIOTCH!"

"_Nice!_" Derek lifted his hand and they exchanged high fives.

"I've been practicing," Casey said, smile beaming through the hockey helmet.

They were outside the house, both wearing helmets and skates, and wielding hockey sticks. Edwin was bundled up with padding inside a portable hockey net.

"Okay, so you've got trash talk dwon. Now we've got to work on your shooting," he skated over a little and gestured to Edwin, "How you feeling, champ?"

"Actually, I'm a little frig-"

"Great," Derek cut off him and turned back to Casey, "We're good to go."

"Uh, alright," she moved behind the puck, squared up, swung…and missed completely.

Derek laughed and sped over, quickly catching her before she collapsed. "Okay, um, so maybe this is gonna take more time than I thought."

"Works for me," Edwin called from the net

"Okay,let's see," his cheek brushed against hers as he moved closer and slid his arms over hers and around her waist. He spoke quietly into her ear. "You need to bend your knees a little more, keep your eye on the puck, and follow through. Got it?"

He guided her through the motions a few times, and Casey sent him a side-glance when he stepped away. "You know, if you weren't _you_, I'd think you were trying to pick me up. In a _really_ lame-ass way."

Derek smirked. "Trust me. You'd know if I was picking you up."

Casey cocked a brow. "Oh, really?"

"Definitely."

"Are you not going to shoot anymore?" Edwin called again, "Because, if not, I'm totally cool with that."

But, they were too caught up in their staring contest. "How?" Casey challenged.

Derek started skating leisurely around her. "Well, you know, I'd just sort of…"

Casey squealed as he charged her and lifted her over his shoulder. "Derek! Stop it, seriously."

He laughed a little and skated a bit further, before finally breaking and putting her down. Casey promptly smacked the side of his head.

"What, are you hitting on me now?"

Casey snorted."Dork."

Edwin was halfway back to the house when Derek turned towards him and shouted, "_Edwin_!"

He grumbled and waddled back to the net.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…And, then, Christy hit her so hard, her retainer fell out," Lizzie finished, grinning.

"Well, I'm…glad you had fun at the party," Nora said slowly. She whispered into George's ear, "We're not letting her go over to Christy's again."

George nodded before scooping more mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"How was your day, Marti?" Nora tried.

"I found three dead squirrels!"

Derek smirked. "Sweet."

"But, you didn't…touch them again, right?" Casey asked, nose scrunching.

Marti shook her head. "Just with a stick."

There was a collective sigh of relief around the table.

"Derek, you and Casey seem to be getting along," George said.

"Dad, come on. I have a reputation to maintain."

"And, so, so many grades to fail," Casey returned, pulling a face at him from across the table.

George sighed. "Once again, I've spoken too soon."

"I did learn how to do a slap shot, though," Casey offered.

"Yeah, and I have the bruises to prove it," Edwin rolled up his sleeves to demonstrate and Lizzie shifted away in disgust.

"Speaking of slapping, that reminds me," George said, "Cindy called for you again."

Casey and Derek rolled their eyes simultaneously. "See, if you had just told her I was dead, like I said to, this wouldn't even be an issue."

"_Or_ maybe you could try having _any_ standards."

Derek smirked and turned towards her. "Um, yeah, Case; when I want advice on how _not_ to have a date, I'll check back in with you."

Casey bristled and dropped her fork. "This from the guy who can't keep a girlfriend for more than week."

"No, no, no; don't get confused. I _choose_ not to have girlfriends."

"Yeah, and I'm sure the whole being a giant creep part helps, too."

"Oh, so now I'm a creep?"

"Okay, okay, round over," Nora finally intervened, lifting a silencing hand, "What is with you two?"

" "Nothing"" they muttered.

After a moment Derek said, "I'll call her back and break it off after dinner," he turned to Casey, "Happy, Spacey?"

She rolled her eyes. "Thrilled.


	9. Chapter 8

Note 1: Question of the day: Can feedback ever get old? No. Thank you. Every one of the reviews inspires me to write more. To all my reviewers: "You da bomb bizzidy bomb!"

Note 2: Lol, okay, so more than a few of you have expressed some frustration about the pace of Dasey. Two points: a) Although they continue to bicker, especially after making progress in their relationship, I do not view this / intend this to be a setback, but simply an inherent part of their relationship: pride and bickering, b) yes, I like angst . 'nuff said ;)

Note 3: There is an illusion to a season one episode in here. The one where Casey works for Derek at school while he has the chicken pocks, and Derek gives her the cell phone at the end. Nothing major.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"_Nobody knows the trouble I've seen_-"

"Derek, stop it..."

"_Nobody knows but Jesus_…"

"_Derek_!"

Derek sighed and looked up at her from where he was shoveling. "What else I am supposed to do? Recite Shakespeare?"

"_Don't_ make fun of my talent," Casey said, hand on her hip, "And, anything besides singing spirituals would be great, thank you."

Derek sighed and shoveled some more snow from the walkway. "It's your fault we're even out here."

"_Excuse me?_"

"You're the one who wouldn't stop whining."

"You super-glued my cell phone to the toilet."

"Hey. What Derek giveth, Derek can taketh away," she rolled her eyes and he continued, "Plus you dissed the Oilers again."

"I was not 'dissing'," Casey argued, working on her own pile, "I was merely observing the plain, objective fact that they _suck ass._"

Derek lifted his shovel and pointed it at her, "You take that back."

"I'd like to see you make me."

"Oh, you just love to be difficult, don't you?"

"Almost as much as you love being an imbecile."

They exchanged tight smiles and resumed shoveling...until a few seconds later, when a pile of show hit Casey in the face.

"_Oh!"_

"Oh, jeez, my bad," Derek looked bewildered as he glanced between his shovel and Casey, "Wow, being an _imbecile_ really makes simple things like shoveling hard for me," he shrugged, "Well, I guess the first step is admitting the problem."

"You…" Casey huffed, a breathy sound somewhere between amusement and annoyance, "Are so…_dead_."

She quickly bent over, grabbed a handful of snow and moved closer to him. Derek held up a calming hand. "Now, Casey you don't want to do anything you'll re-" _Splat_ "gret."

"Okay, it's _on_!

He grabbed his own handful and they proceeded to pummel each other with snowballs.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"It feels so good to be warm, " Casey nearly purred as they entered the house, discarding boots, scarfs, and gloves on their way to the couch.

Derek shivered a little as they plopped down on to it. "_How_ can you be warm already?" He pulled her to him and Casey laughed as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight side hug, stealing her warmth. "I'm fr_eee_zing."

"That's because you decided to be 'cool' and only wear one layer," Casey said, rolling her eyes.

"No, no I'm not 'cool;' I'm _co-o-ld_."

He pressed his cheek up against hers, making her shiver and squirm. "Derek!"

She elbowed him sharply, but didn't move from him as they sat up. Derek sighed and clicked on the TV; and Casey scrunched her nose. "What is this?"

"Final Fatal Fight-out 6," he muttered as she settled against him.

His arms unconsciously tightened around her.

"How can there be six final fatal fight-outs?"

He shrugged as her head fell back against his chest. "Now, they're in another galaxy."

"Hmmm."

He rested his chin atop her head. "Final Fatal Fight-out 7 is the apocalypse."

"Really?"

Her right hand shifted over his.

"Yeah, but then they're resurrected in Final Fatal Fight-out 8: The Resurrection."

"_Shocking_," she snorted and Derek chuckled slightly, the vibration tickling the top her head.

When their fingers brushed and entwined, they paused. Derek glanced down. She glanced up. Their eyes locked, a mixture of panic and certainty, before they slowly turned back towards the T.V.

"Um, yeah, so this is a little weird," Derek murmured.

"Unh huh."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Okay, BIG news."

Casey squeaked as Emily snuck up behind her once again. "_How _do you do that?"

Emily shrugged. "Sheldon's been teaching me, but that's besides the point," she said, waving it off, "Sheldon heard from Rebecca who heard from Jessica who heard from Susan—the tall one, not the red-head—who heard from-"

"_Emily,_" Casey placed an anchoring hand on her shoulder, "Just tell me what you heard."

"Toby's going to ask you out today."

Casey's eyes bulged. "Um, wha-what?"

"I know! It's crazy, isn't it? I mean the way you guys were going on with that whole medieval courtship thing, I thought it'd take at least a semester," when Casey continued to look at her blankly, she asked, "What? Aren't you thrilled?"

"Uh, I guess so," she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before glancing surreptitiously at Derek's locker, where he was exchanging monkey jokes with Sam, "I honestly really hadn't considered it."

"Well, I say go for it," Emily persisted, "I mean, let's be honest. It's been months since your last date. People are starting to talk."

Casey's brows shot up. "People…_talk_ about that?"

"Okay, so mostly me; but, you still need get back in the game."

"Well, I guess he's cute, and kind, and athletic…"

"All good things," Emily encouraged.

Casey shook her head. "Yeah, but I mean, he hasn't even asked me yet. How do you even-"

"Hey, Casey," Toby greeted, walking up to her locker.

Emily just grinned and whispered in her ear before heading off. "My sources never lie."

Casey blinked before smiling politely back at Toby. "Oh, hey, Toby. How's it going?"

"It's all good," he said coolly, "Biology's a killer, but you know how that is…"

She didn't. "Um, yeah, totally," she giggled a little nervously, before winching and stopping herself.

Toby chuckled a bit. "Okay, well, anyway…I was wondering, well, um…" he cleared his throat and straightened his back with resolve, "Would you like to hang out this weekend. You know, catch a movie or something?"

"Uh…" Casey froze for a moment before glancing over his shoulder where Emily was gesturing wildly for her to say yes, "I-I-I'm…not sure. Maybe I could…call you and let you know?"

Toby's face fell a little. "You don't have my number."

"Derek does." She grimaced, not sure why it came out like that.

"Okay, well, you know, whatever. It's no big deal anyway, I mean I have other plans, too, you know how it is."

Casey felt her heart break a little for him, and her face scrunched in discomfort. "Toby, look, you're a _great_ guy…"

He shook his head. "Don't' worry about it…"

"No, no, I'll call you I promise. I'm just in this…_really_ weird place right now. But, I'll let you know by Friday, okay?"

"Whatever." He sent her a half-hearted nod, before walking off.

Emily looked on the verge of a seizure as she walked back to Casey. "_What _is your damage?"

Casey groaned and let her head fall against her locker. "_I don't know._"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Dude, Toby finally asked Casey out."

"_What?"_ Derek grunted as he hit the rink glass in his distraction.

"Nice deke, Venturi!" another teammate called.

Sam chuckled and skated over to help him up from the ice. "Yeah, I know. I never thought he'd work up the nerve."

Derek's expression was guarded as he grabbed his stick. "Well…what did she say?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno. I've heard four different versions," he smirked, "In one they made out in the middle biology."

Derek almost choked on his own spit, and Sam quickly moved to smack his back. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah, yeah," Derek coughed a bit more, before clearing his throat. His eyes searched the ice, "Where's Toby?"

"Still getting suited. He's pretty cryptic though, "Sam shrugged again, "Whatever. It's not like it's that big deal of anyway, right?"

Sam skated off to start warming up, but Derek just stared glumly in at the locker room.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"So, Toby asked you out?"

Casey brows furrowed as Nora walked into the kitchen where she and Lizzie were baking cookies.

"How would you even know that?"

Nora looked indignant. "I'm your mother. I know things about you," Casey sent her a skeptical look and she spilled, "Emily called and asked me to ask you about."

"Unbelievable," Casey said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, he seems like a fine boy," Nora said, patting her arm, "You should really consider."

"I am."

"And, what's there to consider exactly?" Lizzie asked as she cut out cookie shapes, "You're single, lonely, available…"

"Okay, I get the point. Jeez," Casey frowned and Lizzie sent her an apologetic look.

"Sorry. I'm just saying. It's not like your swimming in options here," Lizzie said shrewdly.

Casey's jaw dropped, but she was cut off as the front opened and Derek walked into the kitchen. She smiled slightly, blushing a little; but his face was downcast as he set a thin slit of paper on the island beside her.

"What's this?" she asked, picking it up.

"Toby's number," he said a-matter-of-factly. "Figured you might need it. You know, to call him and all."

"_Oooh_," Marti sung, "_Casey and Toby sitting in a tree_-"

" " Stop it," " Derek and Casey snapped simultaneously.

Casey glanced over at him, but Derek just sighed before turning to walk upstairs. After a moment, she slipped the paper into her pocket, and headed after him, "I'll, um, be right back," she called to Lizzie and Nora.

When she exited the kitchen, Derek was already upstairs. So she climbed the steps, went to his room, and knocked lightly on his door.

"_It's open_."

Casey paused, before slowly opening it and closing it behind her. "Hey," she said softly.

Derek glanced up as he removed his coat. "Is that what you came up here for? To say hi?"

Casey sighed and took a few steps towards to him. "I didn't say yes."

"Yeah, it's sort of hard to call someone when you don't have their number, Spacey," he muttered as he took a seat at his desk, "Even you're not smart enough to pull that off."

"No," she rolled her eyes and walked to the edge the desk, "I mean...I wasn't going to."

Derek's eyes darted up that at that, but he quickly recovered with a look indifference. When he was silent, she continued, "And, I guess… I wanted to see if it would a problem if I did."

His shoulders stiffened insantly. "Why would it be a problem?"

"I don't—I don't know," Casey said, flustered, "I just thought I'd ask."

Derek sat up in his desk. "Well, it's not, okay?"

"Okay, fine, whatever."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Great."

They stared at each for a moment, both tense and frustrated, before Casey sighed and walked out of his room.


	10. Chapter 9

Note 1: Lol, patience is a virtue. Don't worry; I don't have it either ;) It won't be _that_ much longer before they kiss. And, I love theatrics, so hopefully it will be worth the wait. _Please_ hang in there, lol (especially you erin ;) ) I also find it funny that I laugh reading some of your reviews and commentary. Thanks again, guys.

**The following are for your safety and peace of mind, lol:**

Warning 1: Yes, I like angst. There's no getting around that. Embrace the pain; it will only make you stronger (or hate me : ( ) lol.

Warning 2: I like to think about the next two or three chapters this way: You know how you start to clean your room after a REALLY long time; it's kinda of messy and crazy when you first start rearranging…but, then all clean and shinny at the end. Yeah, uh, so it's kind of like that. If that didn't make any sense, it will later, but just a heads up.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"So, it's Wednesday," Emily said as she and Casey walked down the hall.

Casey turned and looked at her blankly before commenting, "And, that usually comes after Tuesday."

"Casey," Emily pleaded, "If you're going to accept Toby's invite, you're gonna have to do it today—tonight at the latest."

"What? Is there some sort of rul-"

"Yes," Emily cut her off, suddenly flipping through a small green booklet, " 'When suddenly accepting a previously rejected invitation, it is in _good _taste to give at least two days notice'," Casey's eyes bulged as she swiftly tucked the booklet back into her messenger bag, "You want to give them enough time so they don't seem totally desperate for still being interested and / or available."

"But, how did yo-?"

"Casey," Emily interrupted again, "You have to stay focused, okay? You have one more year to salvage your train wreck of a social life."

"Wha-?"

"I'm only saying this because I love you. And, truly, I gotta keep it real," Emily pounded a fist over her heart in solidarity.

"Um, thank you," Casey mumbled, "But, I think I'm getting a headache."

"Well, get over it," Emily hissed, turning her in the opposite direction, "Toby's coming behind us. So on the count of three, turn, act surprised, and then do that cute, smile over the shoulder thing."

"Emil-"

"1, 2, 3…"

Casey sighed before turning and forcing a friendly smile on her face. She was slightly caught off guard to see Derek and Sam beside him however. Derek glanced away, a common habit over the last two days, as they approached them.

"Hey, girls," Sam greeted with typical cordiality.

"Hey." "Hey."

Toby offered a "Hey, Latoya," before they passed them, Derek silent on the side.

Casey frowned and Emily squealed a little after they were gone. "You're so in there."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Come in!"

Casey's door crept open and a hesistant Derek appeared on the other side. He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his back pockets, "Uh, hey….so, um the Oilers game's on…wanna check it out?"

Casey looked up and squinted at him from her position on the mattress. "You're not actually…_serious_, are you?"

He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Wh-what?"

"You've barely said a word to me in two days, and now you're suddenly waltzing into my bedroom like we're Sonny and Cher?"

Derek blinked. "Okay, I don't really get that analogy…"

"Let me break it down for you," Casey said, shutting her book, "We're not okay..._okay_?"

Derek sighed, body shifting back and forth as if deciding whether to leave or stay, before he rolled his eyes and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. She looked down at her hands as he said softly, "Casey…"

"Yeah?"

"You're being a brat."

"_What_?" her eyes widened as she looked up in indignation.

"Can we just…not have this whole dramatic episode..._please_?"

"You are unbelievable. And, no," she said, standing angrily from her bed so that they were on opposite sides, "We can't just skip this 'whole dramatic episode,' you moron."

"What do you want me to say?" Derek questioned, now standing as well.

"Well, you could start by saying you're an ass-"

"Fine, I'm an ass. We good?"

When she didn't respond, but just glared at him with folded arms, he continued. "Why? Why do you always have to blow things out of proportion—into this-this huge, monumental _thing_," he was struggling with his words as his face burned with frustration, "Sometimes a thing isn't a thing and it should just…stay not a thing."

"Eloquent," Casey snarked, "I'm breathless, really."

Derek groaned, shaking his head, before saying. "Look, just...call him then."

"What?"

"Toby. Call him if you want to go out with him._ Now. _So we can _end this_," he said, voice rising in agitation.

"End what?" she snapped, grabbing the phone from its receiver. Her voice was sugary sweet as she looked back at him, "I'm sorry, I forgot the number."

Derek's jaw clenched, but he took a deep breath and replied tersely, "643-5542."

"Thank you," her fingers punched the buttons, "Oh, and hold on, you'll probably want to hear this since you're such a sport n' all."

Derek exhaled sharply, crossing his arms

"Hey, hello, Toby?" they were staring at each other as she spoke, wide smile plastered on her features, "Yeah, it's me. About Friday. A movie would be _great_. Oh, dinner. Alright. Yeah, mhmm, cool. Later."

She slammed the phone back on the hook. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Derek said, voice tight, "Now are you done bitching?"

"Oh, not even close."

She grabbed her books and tossed them on her desk, before strutting up to him in the door way. "Wanna catch that game, hon?"

"Love to."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…53's got no shot and the goalie," Casey snorted, "_Please._"

"They're in a rebuilding year."

"You can rebuild crap all you want, but it's still crap."

Edwin sighed and covered his hands in his face as the two exchanged insults over his head.

"Gretzky, Messier, Fuhr…all came from this team," Derek argued from the recliner.

"In what? The forties?"

"Th-the forties?! Woman, do you know nothing about hockey?"

Casey crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "I know that all hockey players are arrogant, thick-skulled, barbarians."

"Okay, that's it, I'm out of here," Edwin jumped from the couch and headed for the steps.

They glanced at him before looking back at each other.

"Three, four years tops, and they'll be champions."

"And, maybe you'll have finally made it out of high school."

Derek's eyes narrowed and he grunted before looking back at the screen.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Hey, guys."

Derek and Casey were sitting by the kitchen island, glaring at each other across a chess board when Lizzie entered the kitchen.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Playing chess," Derek muttered as he took her rook.

Lizzie eyed them as Casey scowled and silently marked something on a sheet of paper. "No I mean…together. You seemed sort of mad."

" "We are" " they grumbled simultaneously.

"Then why are you playing?"

But, they both remained stubbornly silently as Casey moved her knight. Lizzie just rolled her eyes and headed to the fridge.

"I'm proud of you, 'Derry,'," Casey mumbled after a moment, "It's looks like you finally figured out what all the little horsies and toys represent."

"Hmm," Derek smirked a bit as he lifted his queen, "She's my favorite. Bitchy, bossy, controlling; thinks the whole world revolves around her when it's _really_ all about the king."

"Who just sits around passive on his lazy ass," she moved her bishop, "Check."

Derek easily blocked his king from danger. "What? You mean how he actually thinks before he does something? Instead of just running around the board with everyone. Check."

"She's not running around; she's just shrewd," Casey moved a piece, "Plus, the king lent her the car in the first place. Check."

"Only 'cause she kept griping that he never took her anywhere. Check."

"Then take her somewhere. Check."

"She has my car."

Casey moved a piece one last time. And they both just stared at the board.

Lizzie glanced over Derek's shoulder. "It's a stalemate."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

" 'sup Derek," Toby said when Derek opened the front door, "I'm here for Ca-"

Toby jumped back as the door shut in his face. There was an awkward moment as he stood outside, hand rising and falling in front of the doorbell, when the door suddenly swung back open.

"Toby, my man!" Derek greeted, grinning, "I was just messing with you," he jerked the door a bit, as if to close it again, before laughing, "Ah, almost got you again, huh?"

Toby chuckled a little uncomfortably, "Um, yeah man…"

Derek grabbed him by his shoulder and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. "You look _great_ today. Is that a new hair cut?"

"Um, just new gel," he said slowly.

"Yeah, yeah," Derek sighed and shook his head, "It would be a shame if something bad happened to you, you know, and your hair your great, great new outfit got destroyed."

He smiled steely at him and patted his back a little. "Take a seat."

Toby paled as they walked into the living room and he took a seat on the couch. "So—and it's Toby, right?"

"Uh-"

"Derek, stop it," Nora said, exasperated as she came from out of the kitchen. Derek sighed and rolled his eyes as she joined them, "You look very handsome, Toby. Casey should be down any minute."

"Yeah, but that's a minute in dog years," Derek said a-matter-of-factly, "It'll probably be forever."

Toby blinked. "Don't you mean it the other way around?"

"Yeah, that's what I said," Derek leaned back in his recliner, "So, _Toby_, tell me about your plans after graduation."

"Well, I," but his speech faltered as she spotted Casey coming down the steps. She was wearing heels, a rich, plum dress and wrap; and, her hair, which was usually constrained by a clip or twist—was wavy and free. Toby stood, mouth hanging open, "Uhhhh…"

Derek eyes widened as he stood and walked beside him. "Case, you look…_horrible_."

Casey gasped as she reached the bottom of the steps, but Nora promptly stepped in. "You look amazing."

"Beautiful," Toby finally got out.

Derek rolled his eyes and Casey flushed as Toby approached her. He held out his arm, "Shall we?"

Casey nodded and accepted his arm. Nora beamed.

"Hey, hey," Derek called after them, "Don't forget curfew."

The door shut behind them.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Thanks, a lot, Toby. I had a great time."

"Yeah, me, me too."

They were standing awkwardly on the porch as the looked at each other.

"Sorry about that whole tripping in front of the whole restaurant thing, though," Casey added after a moment.

"Oh, it's no big deal. I mean, they'll be able to restore that display in no time, I bet."

Casey grimaced a little at the memory. "Um, okay so, I'll…talk to later."

"Definitely."

They moved towards each other, a tangled intersection with Toby hoping for a kiss and Casey a hug before they finally shook hands.

"Okay, cya later."

"Bye."

Casey let out a deep breath before reaching for doorknob, "Awkward much—ah!" She squealed as she opened the door to find Derek sitting on the couch. "Oh my god; what, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

But, Derek just stared at her, face dark as he sat on the recliner in his pajama bottoms.

"What are you doing still up?" she tried again.

He stood and returned, "What are you doing still out?"

"Okay, like you've never missed curfew before."

"This isn't about me."

"Isn't always?" she said sharply. Derek stiffened, but she quickly continued, "Are my mom and George awake?"

"No," he said tensely, "Just me."

She looked back at him, standing there, arms crossed and broody; and she felt a tingle run her spine at the thought of him sitting on the couch, waiting for her. Her cheeks flushed in the dark. "Der-"

"Where were you?"

"With Toby," she said blankly.

"I _know_ you were with Toby," he bit out, obvious irritation radiating from him, "I meant where did you go?"

"What, do you want the play by play or something?" she was indignant as she headed for the steps.

"Play by play?" he repeated, gingerly grasping her elbow and pulling her back down to the bottom step so they were eye to eye, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's it to you?" she snapped, pulling her arm back.

Derek faltered a little, a war in his eyes as he said, "I just—I wanna know."

"You didn't seem too interested earlier."

She didn't know why'd she'd said it, let alone thought it; she sighed, flustered at the situation and herself as she headed back up the stairs. This time, Derek, stood speechless for a few moments, before following quietly after her. Casey heard and picked up her pace. But when she moved to shut her bedroom door, a firm hand snaked between, pushing it open. She rolled her eyes as he stepped in and closed it behind him.

"Is that was this is about?" he questioned, voice colored with anger, "You're doing this just to push my buttons--because I didn't _faint_ when I found out?"

"Oh, get over yourself."

"Ladies first," he snarked.

Casey huffed, her face burning with a different flush as her jaw clenched. "Get. Out."

"No. Not until we work this out."

"What's there to work out? You're challenged and I'm through."

She moved to reach for the door and usher him out, but Derek deftly grabbed her arm again, spinning her back to him. "Why did you go out with him then?"

Her brows cocked and she let him have it. "Because he's cute, kind, funny, charming…"

"I get the point," his voice raised a little then, barely restrained as they spoke in the dark, and he released her arm.

"You shouldn't have asked if you didn't want to hear the answer," she said, stepping back. She was poised to kick him out, when she let out a sigh of frustration, annoyed she couldn't resist her own question, "If it bothered you so much, why didn't you say something?"

"What was I supposed to say?"

"I don't know, maybe um, uh—that it bothered you?" she snapped sarcastically.

"The only thing _bothering_ me right now is you."

"Then leave me alone."

"Fine."

"_Fine._"

He headed for the door and she huffed and hissed after him, "And I'm keeping the hoodie!"


	11. Chapter 10

Note 1: F to the e to the edback! Thanks guys. You rock. Hard.

Note 2: Bonus res adeo qui exspecto ;)

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"...No, but it was crazy. There were like four monkeys with tacos, and then the other three monkeys-"

"Uh, hey, Derek."

He glanced up from his conversation with Sam as Toby took a hesitant seat at the lunch table. When it was silent for a moment, Toby tried again, "We cool?"

Derek just stared at him and Sam looked quizzically between the two, "Did I miss something?"

"No," Derek muttered.

Toby's tray lifted slightly. "No, we're not cool?"

"No, he didn't miss anything."

"So we _are_ cool?" Toby guessed, tray grazing the surface of the table.

"Did I say that?"

Toby looked flustered as he hovered half-way standing and half-way sitting. "I, uh, um, don't really know."

Derek glowered a bit before nodding as if were it acceptable to join. Toby just masked his relief with a carefree expression. "Well, yeah, man. I knew that. You were just messin', right?" Toby reached over and punched his arm playfully. But, when Derek just glared at him, he cleared his throat and looked away.

"So _Monkeys in Manhattan_ marathon this weekend," Sam said, shrewdly advancing the conversation, "You guys in…or are you in?" he finished with a goofy smile.

"Guess so," Derek said absently.

Toby finally looked up from his tray and grinned. "Sweet; we can watch it at your place."

"Uh, I don't think so."

"Him and Casey are fighting," Sam explained.

"They're always fighting."

"Yeah, but this time it's like for real or something," Sam said, rolling his eyes. After a moment, he sent Derek a side-glance and continued, "He does have the biggest T.V. though. I mean, I guess we could always go over to Sheldon's, but…"

"Fine, fine, whatever," Derek cut off, annoyed, "But we're there for monkeys…nothing else," he finished, sending Toby a meaningful look.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"So, what are we up to tonight?" Emily asked as she and Casey sat on Emily's bed, flipping through magazines and listening to bad pop music.

"I dunno," she rolled her eyes, "Derek's having the guys over for some dumb monkey thing."

"You mean the _Monkeys in Manhattan_ marathon? Oh, _girl_, are we in, or are we _in_?"

She raised her hand for a high-five, but Casey didn't return it. "What? Everybody loves monkeys."

"It's not the monkeys that revolt me," she grumbled.

"So this is about Derek again," Emily sighed dramatically.

Casey set down her magazine. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, only that you two have been _way_ too wrapped up in melodrama lately. First you hate each other, then your best buds; then you hate each other, then your watching Oilers games; then he farts and you hate each other again," she rolled her eyes, "I mean, _seriously_, _Lost_ has less plot twists."

Casey looked utterly indignant. "You don't know what it's like having to live with him."

"_Yes_, I do. Because that's all you talk about anymore," her face twisted in distaste, "Well, that and organic chemistry. Seriously, if you put as much energy into your social life and _this_ booklet," Casey eyebrows shot up as she flashed it again, before instantly putting it away, "You'd be prom queen."

Casey's mouth hung open for a moment, deciding between bewilderment and resignation, before she muttered, "Fine. What should I do then?"

Emily smiled and sat up. "You should put on a super-cute-but-casual outfit and hang out with Toby and some _crazy-fun _animals."

"Sam and Derek?" Casey asked, brows knitting.

"No, the monkeys."

"Oh. Right."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I'm sorry, we're closed right now. But, if you'd like to try again later-"

Casey huffed, cutting him off as she pushed through the front door and shoved past him. "Idiot."

Emily blinked. But, then entered slowly behind her. "Um, hey, Derek."

"What are you doing here?" Derek demanded, apparently oblivious to Emily's arrival.

"Um, I _live_ here."

"Not tonight, you don't," Derek pulled her up by her elbow right as she was about to take a seat on the couch, "I have company. So, stop by the store, buy a life in aisle 8, and get lost."

"Since when is watching monkeys on a subway a 'life'?"

"They'll explain it all to you when you get to there."

Casey huffed and struggled a bit as he held on to her and opened the door. When it swung open, Sam and Toby were standing, startled on the porch. Derek faltered, before grinning and wrapping his arm around a frazzled Casey. "Hey, guys. Great timing. Casey was _just _leaving."

"No, I wasn't."

"So you are chillin' with us?" Toby asked as he and Sam entered, leaving an annoyed Derek to close the door behind them, "I thought you had some Shakespeare recital tonight?"

Casey glared daggers into the side of Derek's head and he quickly diverted attention away form the matter, ushering people into the living room. "Well, plans sure do change, huh?" He jogged back and called up the stairs, "_Edwin!_"

"You rang, sire?" Edwin said, bounding down the steps.

"Cute...Now where are the snacks?"

"I ate them."

"_Excuse me_?"

"I've been talking to my account manager…" Lizzie appeared at the top of the steps, shaking her head disapprovingly down at Derek, "And, as of today, you owe me a total of $93.21…not including overages, appreciation, and general detriment to my psyche."

"Why you little-"

He reached for him and Lizzie quickly snapped a photo. Derek blinked, squinting up at her.

"Just more evidence for the hearing," she said gamely.

Derek scowled as Edwin ran back up the steps. "I can't believe I gave them two dollars," he groused.

"What, so no grub?" Toby asked as Derek walked back over.

"Don't sweat it. We'll just wait it out until my pops gets back," He smirked, "But, for now, I'm sure Casey's got all the 'grub' we need."

"And providing _ass-_inine humor for us this evening," she gestured theatrically to Derek.

"Speaking of humor," Emily interjected, "How 'bout those monkeys?"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Man, now there are_ thirty_ monkeys on the bed!" Sam cried as he and Emily laughed hysterically.

Casey just sighed and Derek kept glancing, agitated, at Toby's arm around her on the couch.

"Can we _please_ watch something else?" Casey pleaded.

"Why? It's only been two hours," Emily said, confused.

"Two hours with no snacks," Toby complained, looking pointedly at Derek, "What's up with that, man?"

Derek stared at him then, sitting there with an expectant expression as his hand lay posssessively on Casey's shoulder; and something snapped. "Do I _look_ like a butler to you?" he questioned, "A waiter? A servant?...A hotel _concierge_?! Then get your own damn food and don't take _mine!_"

Toby held up a calming hand. "Dude, chill-"

"And, STOP telling me to chill!"

"Well, can I then?" Emily said, watching him wearily.

Derek just groaned, shot up from his seat and headed for the kitchen. "I'll see what I can scrape up, _Sir Toby._"

Derek grunted, rifling through the kitchen cupboard for something edible and grumbling to himself. "Stupid monkeyscouchToby."

"_What_ is your problem?"

Derek's eyes shut in frustration before he glanced up to where Casey was standing with her arms crossed. When he glowered, ignored her, and turned back to the cupboard, Casey marched over and yanked him up by his collar.

"Are you deaf now, too?"

"No, just _insanely_ annoyed."

Casey huffed and set her hands on her hips. "Look, when you're an ass to me, fine, whatever, it's pretty much part of my daily routine; but, you can't treat our guests like that."

"Oh, you mean, Toby?" Derek said, face reddening, "Well, I'm sorry if your boyfriend doesn't find me hospitable. Perhaps he could find better accommodations at the Get-the-Hell-out-of-my-House Inn!"

Casey's eyes widened in exasperation. "Listen to yourself. You're being ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous? You're the one draping yourself over the first moron who gives you attention."

Casey bristled. "Don't take it out on me because he's interested and _willing_ to do something about it."

"Do what? Use outdated slang and bumble all over you?"

"Pfft. As if you could do any better."

He stiffened instantly and advanced, setting a firm on each side of the island behind her, and locking her in. His voice was steely as he spoke just inches from her face."Trust me," he promised, "There are a _lot _of things I can do better than he can."

"That you _can_ do...or want to?"

Derek smirked and pressed into her, eyes boring into hers, and making her shiver. "What do you think?"

"I think you want it so bad you don't even know what to do with your _bumbling _self."

She pushed him back a bit, and they stared intensely at each other, flushed with anger, challenge, and something else entirely.

"Derek," George called as he marched into the kitchen, "_Your _guests are complaining about a lack of food; and, _you're _going to take care of it. 'kay?"

George sighed and tossed him the car keys; and Derek caught them effortlessly as his gaze remained locked on Casey. When he left, Derek grabbed her arm. "You're coming with me."

Casey tore her arm from him and grabbed at the middle of his shirt, tugging as she headed out the kitchen. "No; _you're_ coming with _me._"

"What_ever_; let's just go."

_II_

They stormed into the driveway, Casey still pulling him as they approached the car. They parted and went to opposites sides.

"Ugh," Casey exhaled edgily as they stared at each other over the roof of the car, "I am so..." her face furrowed with tension, "_frustrated_."

"Oh, _god_ do I know."

She huffed and he grunted as they entered the car, doors slamming after them. They clicked on their seatbelts with jerky motions and an angry silence set in his Derek started the engine. They were bothered, hot, with no adequate release in sight.

The quiet burned for long, tense minutes before Derek finally bit out, "Why did you even come tonight?"

"What?" Her head turned from where she'd been glaring out the window.

"Why did you come? Was it to see Toby, or me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

Derek's jaw visibly tightened. "The kind that ends in a question mark and requires an answer," he near-growled.

"Well, I don't _have_ an answer," she fired back.

"Of course not," he grumbled and turned back to the road, "Why would Casey MacDonald, the most difficult woman on the face of the earth, have an answer to a basic, simple question?"

"Well, excuse me for having real emotions, Derek," she fumed as she spat out the rest, "Unlike certain heartless Neanderthals who shall remain nameless."

"What? So, since I don't throw a tantrum every five minutes, I can't have emotions? I can't care about anything?"

"Oh, you care about things, alright…as long as their names start with 'hockey' and 'sex'."

"Neither of which I can enjoy with _you_!" he let out a bitter chuckle, "But then again, what _can_ I enjoy when your around?"

"Being a clueless _dunce _seems to be a favorite."

"God, woman, just answer my question!" He rumbled, "_Me _or _him_?"

"Derek!"

"What?!"

"A car!"

Somewhere, in the midst of their argument, Derek had driven into the other lane--and straight towards another car. "Shit," he spun the steering wheel to the right and the car jerked, tires screeching as it veered off the road.

Silence screamed as they sat, frozen. Then Derek's hand reached for her and he took her with a furious kiss.

Their lips smashed together: desperate, needy, clumsy, unstoppable as they clung to each other. Derek fought the pinch of the seatbelt and leaned over her, lips pleading hers to part under his. Casey moaned and acquiesced, a burst of lust and adrenaline exploding in their mouths.

Derek's hands shook as he fumbled with her seat belt. "Are you okay?"

She panted against his lips. "Are you?"

The buckle released with a snap and Casey climbed over and straddled him in the driver's seat. Her hands clasped each side of his face and she pressed long, hot, hard kisses on his mouth. Derek arched up into it, and Casey's head struck the roof; but she persisted as their lips met again and again. "Casey-" he moaned, long and drawn out.

"Yeah?"

"_I want you_."

"I know."

She leaned in and captured him in another hungry kiss.


	12. Chapter 11

Note 1: Thanks SO much for all the wonderful feedback. It really makes my day. You guys rock.

Note 2: I'm changing the rating on this fic to Teen. There won't be anything graphic, but I just want to be safe.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"_Oh god, please don't stop_."

Her voice was a whine in his ear as he pressed into her, her back pushed up against the steering wheel as he spread hot, wet kisses on her neck. He shivered as her fingers raked his scalp. "I'm just getting started."

"Then what's taking you so long?"

She tugged forcibly at his hair, dragging his lips back up to hers as they fell back against the driver's seat. "You're difficult," he breathed between quick, fiery kisses, "It takes time_—mmmm—_effort—_ohhh_—skill."

"It's gonna take a lot more than that."

"Yeah? What?"

She smirked. "If you have to ask, you'll never get there."

"Oh, I think I'm getting there."

"You think," she pulled his head back, eyes teasing, challenging, "Or you know?"

"I _know_," he insisted, hands moving ably against her, "Don't be stubborn, Casey; admit it."

"Did you just ask me not to be stubborn?" she smiled a little, impish, "I'll do that as soon you stop thinking about hockey," she nibbled at his jaw line, "wisecracking," sucked at his neck," and _breathing_," and bit down.

"Oh, _god_," Derek groaned, whinny, and needy as his eyes shut and he arched up against her, "I think I just did."

His gut clenched and he started to perspire.

"What's the matter, Der?" she whispered into his ear, "Lose your cool?"

"Never."

He lunged and his mouth claimed her, their tongues dueling as their motions became jerkier, frantic. They pulled at each other, grasping and grappling as their limbs collided clumsily. It wasn't pleasant. Or graceful. It was cramped, hot, uncomfortable. But they didn't stop.

Casey began pushing his coat from his shoulders.

"I got it," he muttered, shifting forward.

She panted a little, hands on his neck as he adjusted. When he struggled, she rolled her eyes and yanked it off for him. "Could you do _anything_ without me?"

"Not this."

His lips brushed against her and she smiled into it. "Although, I'm sure you try."

"I don't _try_ anything," his voice was a husky promise against her skin, "I do and I get."

His lips were on her neck again, and she moaned as his fingers worked the buttons of her top. He cursed a little, angry as he fumbled with them. Casey huffed. "I thought you were supposed to be good at this?"

"I _am_."

Derek grunted in frustration and her blouse tore under the strain. Casey gasped as buttons and threads popped about. "Eager, much?"

"Like that blouse wasn't ugly."

"I _liked_ that blouse."

Derek snorted. "You're kidding, right?"

She scowled, grabbed the collar of his button-up shirt and ripped through three button holes.

"Why you little…" His jaw clinched as he faltered, grasping her face in both hands as she glared back at him, "I can't ever decide whether to be pissed off at you orturned on."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, gee, thanks-"

His mouth pressed against hers then, silencing her.

"_Open up!"_

They stiffened, pulled apart, and looked slowly towards the window. There was a policeman glowering through the glass. Derek swallowed and pressed the window button, and Casey ducked her head, mortified. "_Oh, god_," she muttered.

"Um, hello, officer…" he stuttered, "Can we, uh help you with something?"

Casey smiled, an anxious greeting from Derek's lap.

"You do realize you're on the sidewalk, correct?"

Their eyes widened. "Uh, well…" "We were just…"

"Do your parents know what you're up to?" He interrupted.

Derek and Casey paled. " "Please, don't call them!" "

The officer watched them for a long moment, considering, before finally speaking, "Because I'm tired, and slightly amused, I'm gonna let you off with a warning. But, next time, get a room for Christ's sake. And stay off the damn sidewalk." He shook his head, walking off, and Derek and Casey visibly relaxed.

They parted and silently pulled their coats back over their torn shirts.

Derek cleared his throat after a long moment. "So."

"So," Casey repeated.

"Wanna get those snacks?"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Shouldn't they be back by now?" Toby asked as the next episode of _Monkeys in Manhattan_ began.

"I guess it has been a while," Emily muttered, checking her watch, "Geez, time really flies when you're watching monkeys rollerblade."

Sam just shrugged. "They're probably fighting over what store to go to..."

"What food to buy..." Emily added.

"_What _to fight about."

He and Emily exchanged knowing smiles, before turning back to the show. When the front door opened soon after, however, they looked back up. Derek and Casey were entering with several grocery bags, and looked slightly disheveled.

"Thank, god," Emily said, walking over to them, "I'm starving."

"Yeah, what took you guys so long?" Sam smirked, "Wrestling again?"

"Uh, yeah, something like that," Derek mumbled.

"Why is your hair all crazy?" Emily frowned as she took a couple of plastic bags from Casey's hand. Her brows furrowed as part of her mangled shirt peaked through her jean jacket, "And, what happened to your blouse?"

"Um, I,um…"

"…got it caught in the car door," Derek filled in instantly, "It was completely clumsy and inept…as usual."

Casey's brows furrowed. Then she smirked, reached for his coat zipper, and pulled it down. "Oh, and how did _that_ happen again, Derek?"

"I, uh, um well…"

Casey smiled innocently as the others turned and watched him expectantly. "I…" he sighed in resignation, "…got caught in the door, too."

"Funny how that happens."

Toby squinted slightly. "Wait, so what kind of door was this exactly; because that really doesn't make…"

"Well, I've got go upstairs and change," Casey interrupted, "But, you guys can start eating if you want."

"Yeah, yeah, me too," Derek said, jogging after her.

Toby watched, confused, while Sam and Emily started grabbing snacks.

At the top of the steps, Derek caught up with her, left hand catching her forearm, and turning her towards him. He stared at her for a moment and Casey quirked a brow. "What?"

"Well, I umph-" she cut him off with another kiss, her hands gripping the back of his head as their lips crashed together. He was breathless when she finally pulled back.

"Go get cleaned up," she ordered, before walking into her room.

_IIIIIIII_

"Wow, I never thought I'd say this, but…I think I'm actually sick of monkeys." Emily yawned slightly as she turned off the T.V.

"Dude," Sam interjected, "Even when they're driving mopeds?"

Emily paused for a moment, considering, before bursting back into hysterical laughter. Sam joined her and Toby watched amused as they re-enacted the scene.

Derek and Casey meanwhile, were otherwise occupied, as they kept glancing, looking, and then finally staring at each other from across the room. Casey bit at her bottom lip as Derek's eyes darkened intensely.

"Ha! What do you think, Casey?"

"Umuh, what?" She turned suddenly back to Toby, smiling prettily as he regarded her.

"About the monkey-go-round?" He said, frowning, "Are you alright? You seem a little out of it."

His hand rested on her shoulder and she instinctively glanced at Derek. When he stiffened, part of her was pleased by the attention; but she spared him further discomfort and shifted from Toby.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just…a bit monkeyed-out I guess."

"You want to go for a walk or something?"

"Um," her face twisted in consternation, "I uh…"

"Would _love_ to," Emily finished for her, sending her an exasperated glare.

"Uh, well..." she glanced a little helplessly at Derek, but Toby interjected.

"Cool. Let's go."

Derek shot up in his recliner. "_Wait_," he faltered a little under everyone's confused gaze, "We um, ah...don't we have that-that team...party thing tonight?"

Sam's brows knitted. "Yeah, I guess, so. Was that mandatory?"

He looked to the team captain, and all other heads followed. Derek paused, contemplating. He could say no, but then Casey and Toby would apparently run off together into the sunset. Yet, if he said, yes, then he and Casey couldn't do other things in much darker, more private places. He sighed before muttering, "We should probably go. Team morale n' all."

Toby's face fell a little, hand falling from Casey's shoulder, and Casey exhaled in relief.

"Sweet," Sam said, standing, "I heard there were going to be Twizzlers."

Derek just nodded absently before grabbing his coat from the rack as the other two gathered their things.

"Well, I guess that's my cue, too," Emily announced, "I have to get up early if I'm going to win that power-walking tournament."

"Good luck, 'Em."

" Thanks. Night, Case."

They all began shuffling out of the door and Casey walked into the foyer behind them. After the last person left, Derek paused at the door and looked at her. "I'll be back soon," he promised.

"And?"

He shook his head, smirking. "You're so stubborn."

She just smiled a little and closed the door behind him.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

It was 1 am when Casey heard the front door open. She could hear his footseps; and she lay there, listening.

His feet seemed restless. They were scuffling in the kitchen, the foyer, up the steps, by the closet, and then, finally, outside her door. Casey sat up. But, after only a few seconds, she heard muttering, and his bedroom door shut.

"Idiot."

She rolled her eyes, stood, and was deciding whether to take matters into her own hands, when the door suddenly swung open.

"_Ah-"_ Derek swallowed the noise, mouth taking hers roughly as the door shut behind them. His lips devoured hers as he walked her up against the nearest wall.

"Let's try this again," he rasped.

"Unh huh."

She grabbed at his shirt, pulling him back to her. Her mouth parted urgently and latched to his. Derek pressed her completely to the wall, and Casey felt her chest tighten with sensation, their breaths coming in erratic puffs as their lips pressed togehter. They tasted each other; and conversation and challenge ceased as they took long, deep gulps and swallowed.

"God, I want this so bad," Derek finally moaned into her mouth.

"Me too."

"But-"

He leaned back, looking at her for a long moment. Her eyes questioned him and he murmured, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Trust me," she assured, "This doesn't hurt."

She moved to capture his lips, and he pulled away. "That's not what I meant."

Casey tilted her head, caught his gaze and searched it, before dropping her hands from his chest. "Oh."

He stepped back from her, tense, but determined and she sighed. "So don't."

"It's not that simple," his head ducked, "You know that."

Her face clouded and she walked slowly away from him. When she sat on her mattress, forearms leaning on her thighs and hands tangling in contemplation, he joined her.

They sat. Wordless.


	13. Chapter 12

Note 1: Reviewers, how I love thee…let me count the ways….

Note 2: This is kind of a transition chapter. But, don't worry, more goodness is to come :)

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Okay, so I've been thinking..."

Derek shot up from his desk, body standing at attention as Casey entered. His eyes were intense and she blushed slightly. "Um, alright," she muttered, walking further into his room, "I, um, was thinking about last night."

"Yeah, me, too…a lot."

"_Yeeeaah_, so that's kind of the problem."

" 'Problem?'" His face fell a little.

"Well, I don't really know yet. That's why…uh, wait one second."

She jogged out the room, disappearing. Derek blinked; then walked over to his doorway to look.When she returned just a few seconds later, slightly breathless, she bumped into him. "Oh, uh, sorry," she pressed a hand to his chest and asked, "Do you have anything sticky?"

"Uh," Derek stuttered, "I don't know what you're playing at here, but…:

"For the _paper_, Derek."

She rolled her eyes and he looked a bit sheepish as he glanced down at the roll of paper in her hand.

"Oh, right; yeah, probably a little."

"And a pen," she called as he walked over to his desk.

She waited patiently by the wall, while he rifled through a few drawers. He sent her a wary look as he walked over to her, pen and tape in hand.

"Help me with this," she instructed.

She unrolled the paper and held it to the wall while Derek taped down each corner.

"Okayyy." He watched her expectantly.

"So, you know how I like to be organized and rational-"

"No, _really_?" Derek questioned saracstically.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she continued. "So, I think we should talk this through. Weigh the pros and the cons, and then act accordingly."

Derek's eyes widened as Casey drew a line down the middle of the sheet. On the left she scribbled 'pros', and on the right 'cons'.

"Oh...oh, you're kidding," he chuckled; but when she didn't join him, he stopped, "Right?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding to you?" Her arms folded.

"No, that's why I'm incredibly distrubed."

She huffed. "Do you want to work this out, or not?"

"Fine, fine. Continue on, Professor Spacey."

He watched her, bemused, as she stepped before the sheet. "Well first and foremost…" Casey trailed off and wrote 'STEP-SIBLINGS' in big, bold letters.

Derek cleared his throat. "Yeah, really no way of getting around that one. Well," he paused for a second, contemplating, "No ethical one, at least."

Casey rolled her eyes.

"You're forgetting something though."

"What?"

He took the pen from her and wrote, 'HOTT' into the pros column, underlining twice.

"Very articulate."

He shrugged. "Some things speak for themselves."

"And, some shouldn't speak at all."

"Well, excuse me, Sir-Gripes-A-Lot, if I don't toss around big, meaningless words like 'some' people."

Casey's hands set on her hips. "I do not gripe, I am not pretentious, and I am _not_ a sir."

"Well, _obviously_ I figured that one out," he paused, "Unless… is there something you want to share with me, maybe add to the cons column?"

"You are so..." Casey glared and wrote: 'Fighting'.

"No, no, no," Derek interjected, taking the pen from her again, "Only about 30 percent of that was actually fighting. The rest was just foreplay."

"Derek, I need you to be serious-"

"I am being serious."

Casey's brows knitted together, curious, and she crossed her arms. "Explain."

"Come on, Casey," His voice lowered as he stepped into her space, eyes coaxing, "Tell me you don't a get a _little_ bit of a thrill every time we go at it. You're cheeks heat…you get all worked up…flushed, angry...sexy,--"

"_Okay_, I get it," she huffed and stepped back, "But, even if that's true, it still constitutes fighting."

"Yes, but since we'd be _playing_," Derek said, annunciating each syllable, " We wouldn't need as much, would we?" He smirked, "Plus, I kind of like it when you're feisty."

"_Fine_," she gritted out, face indignant, "You can cross it out," she sighed, "I guess it…neutralizes, or something."

Derek flashed a sly smile and winked before drawing a line through it. Casey was sending him an annoyed look when he continued. "But, I guess you could add the 'con' that you're a stuck-up priss and I'm...well, badass."

"Oh, you mean how I'm a mature adult and you're delusional?"

"See what I mean?" Derek said, leaning in, "_Feisty_."

Casey shoved him a little and scribbled more unto the list.

"We'd have to hide all the time," she said, frowning, "Or I guess we could go public, but then, that might be awkward…"

"…and probably piss off our parents more than a teensy bit…"

"…then there's explaining it to Edwin and Lizzie…"

"…Marti…"

"…not to mention our friends, teachers."

Quiet took them for a long moment.

"We could end up hating each other," Derek finally said, "I mean _really_ hating each other...

"...which is pretty probable considering you're an ass and I'm..."

"... a bitchy drama queen?"

"_Thanks_," she deadpanned, "Took the words right out my mouth."

But, Derek just continued. "We don't have much in common.".

"Except being stubborn, opinionated and competitive."

"You hate the Oilers…"

"…you _are_ the Oilers…"

"…you're neat, picky, uptight…"

"…you're disgusting, really….

"… prissy and pink and preppy…"

"…sometimes you smell funny, and it doesn't seem to bother you…"

"…pretty much everything I _don't_ look for in a girl…"

"…just the thought of _dating_ someone like you makes me shudder…"

Derek glanced over at her where she was standing by the list, motionless. "Are you getting this down?"

She sighed. "I don't think I have to. It'd take a lot to outweigh all this," she started peeling the paper form the wall, folding it, and looked down. "So, maybe, I don't know…we should…stop spending time together-"

"_No_."

Derek stiffened, glaring like a petulant child, and Casey was simultaneously annoyed and relieved.

"Then what should we do?"

"I dunno," he looked flustered as he ruminated, "Maybe…maybe we could be--what do they call it…f-f-fri-frie…"

"Friends?" she finished, rescuing him.

"Yeah, that, or whatever."

"You think that's actually possible?"

"Maybe not, but…" he faltered, frustrated, "I l-li-lik-liiiiike being with you," he exhaled deeply, "God, that was _exhausting_."

"What?" Casey questioned, face and eyes softening as she regarded him, "Kindness?"

"_Yes._"

"Well," she paused, before blurting out, "I like being with you, too."

It was silent as they looked at each other.

"So, what should... 'friends' do then?" Derek asked, rolling his eyes and scratching his neck.

"Well, they probably don't grope each other."

"Or French kiss," he smirked, "They might pat each other's butts though."

Casey laughed and Derek joined her, relaxing a little.

"You wanna," Casey chewed at her lip, "Do a puzzle or something?"

Derek stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Sure."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"This is hard."

"Derek, there are like twelve pieces."

"No, I mean…this."

Casey glanced up as he gestured between them. Her expression fell a little and she attached another puzzle piece. "Yeah, I know. But, what else are we supposed to do?"

"I dunno," he mumbled again, "It's just…" he sighed, "annoying and frustrating and not outrageously fun."

She scowled, affronted. "Well, I already suggested time apart."

"And, I already said no, so calm down."

His hand reflexively covered hers, fingers tangling, and she snatched it back. "Derek," she hissed.

"Sorry," he rolled his eyes, "I didn't know I was infectious all of a sudden."

"If you were infectious, we wouldn't really have a problem, now would we?"

His brows furrowed. "Was that some sort of... badly disguised compliment?"

"No, it was a fantastically disguised compliment. So fantastically disguised, in fact, that there was no compliment at all."

He blinked. "Do you even know what you just said?"

"No, I kinda got lost halfway through."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I need a chick."

"And, this is different from usual…how?"

Derek shook his head and leaned against his locker as he and Sam spoke. "No, I mean like _really_ though."

"It has been a while," Sam said, nodding, "A week, maybe?"

Sam smirked and Derek rolled his eyes, continuing. "Someone simple, easy. Doesn't talk too much or argue, or think about weird, complicated things…"

He trailed off as his gaze fell on Casey across the hall.

"Try a cheerleader," Sam suggested.

"Nah, they're getting smarter now," he muttered, "Ever since Casey printed that dumb Women's Lib article."

"Dude. That was a powerful piece."

"Because we're best friends, I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Hey, Big D."

Both Sam and Derek's eyes widened as a blonde winked and passed them. Derek was smirking, and moving to pursue her when his eyes met Casey's. She was glowering from her locker and, for some reason, he instinctively knew to stop and turn around.

"Dude, what happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

_II_

"Jealous, much?"

Derek scowled as they met a few minutes later in the outside corridor.

"I'm not jealous, I'm just annoyed at your horrible taste in girls."

"We'll look, if we're gonna do this whole BFF thing, you need to chill, be my wing man, ….not shoot me down with guilty, penetrating glares."

"Someone's abruptly poetic," Casey snarked.

"Just stop it," he grumbled, "I can't concentrate when you're around like that."

She crossed her arms. "Around like what?"

"You know…all pouty and stuff."

"I can't help it if my lips are plump."

"You can stop puckering. That'd be a start."

"Well, then at least wait 'till I'm out of spitting distance to pick up your next tramp," she snapped.

"Casey, let's face it. I'm going to be having a lot of," he made air quotes, "… 'moralistically questionable' ladies around…you're gonna have to deal."

She rolled her eyes. "What does that even mean?"

"It means Big D Dizzle's got an itch, and unless you're going to scratch it for him, back off."

"Ugh," she huffed a little, "Pig."

"Prude."

They exchanged shoulder shoves before walking together towards the cafeteria.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_


	14. Chapter 13

Note 1: Boo responsibilities!! Sorry, guys. I just finished a MASSIVE project (thank God!), so writing was definitely put on hold. Hopefully, I'll be able to get back into the swing of things now that things have relatively calmed down. Sorry for the wait and thanks for your patience.

Note 2: Feedback make dwu happy.

Note 3: Wow, this chapter really just kind of took on a mind of its own. It wrote itsself, so I can't be held fully responsible for anything that follows, lol. Anyway, so yeah, there is some angst ahead, but remember the light at the end of the tunnel...

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"C.D. _Now_."

Casey's face furrowed as she turned around in her desk chair. Derek was marching into her room and she stood to face him. "Um, rude much?"

"No, _annoyed_ much. I let you borrow it ten years ago."

Casey cocked a brow and Derek waved his hand dismissively.

"Roughly, _whatever._" he sighed, "Just give it. I need it for a thing."

"A thing, huh?" Casey rolled her eyes as she walked over to the music shelf, Derek following closely behind. "Does this 'thing' happen to have two legs and breasts?"

"That depends: are you referring to a girl or a KFC value meal?"

Derek smirked as she turned to him. "Is there really a difference when it comes to your choice of women? I mean," she tilted her head as if considering, "They're both cheap, easy to get, gone in twenty minutes…"

"I don't know, Case. Why you don't you ask _you_."

She huffed."I am not, nor will I ever be one of your 'women'," her face twisted with distaste.

"Would you prefer something more dignified then?" he offered, "Lady of the night? Female escort? Mistress?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot: were you trying to get your c.d. or a sharp blow to the head?"

"What, I can only choose one?"

Casey promptly smacked the side of his head but he just laughed it off. She sighed as she looked back to her collection,"I don't see it," she shrugged, "Are you sure you didn't lend it to Edwin…or Marti?"

"Positive. Edwin keeps a full inventory of all his possessions and Marti's…Marti; I don't lend her anything."

"Well, it's not here."

He exhaled dramatically. "God, woman, must I do _everything_."

Casey glared at him as he moved beside her, bumping her a little as he rummaged through her collection.

"Hey! Those are organized," she cried.

"What? By genre or by boringness?"

"My collection is _not_ boring."

"Only because you steal from mine," he countered, flipping through c.d.s, "Look at this: my Audioslave, Outkast, Snow Patrol…"

"No, the Outkast is mine."

"Yeah, sure, Spacey…"

"I'm serious," she snatched the c.d. from his hand and huffed, "Now, are you done ruining my stuff?"

"Almost," Derek muttered before searching a little longer. He frowned. "It's not here."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I sort of already established that."

"Well, what am I supposed to tell Charlotte?" Derek demanded.

"I dunno," she shrugged, "That's you're a sexist womanizer with a Napoleon complex?"

"Tempting," Derek considered, "But, not one of my better lines."

"And, there are so, so many of them to choose from, aren't there?"

He shrugged. "So many that work."

His eyes were teasing, provoking and Casey sighed before beginning to usher him out. "Well, why loiter here when there are all those lonely, impressionable freshmen to woo?"

"Too many ladies, too little Derek."

When they reached her doorway, he finally turned, resisting. "You owe me a C.D…or at least a _reasonably _good pickup line."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

The heel of her palm dug into his chest, pushing, and Derek was struck with the sudden need to feel more of her on him. When her hand trailed down his chest and then finally back to her side, he stared at her.

Then he shoved her. Hard.

"Excuse you," she snapped.

Casey looked at him expectantly. But, he just looked back, and then shoved her again. "What the—stop it."

When he shoved her a third time, she finally struck back and punched his shoulder. Derek smirked as he pulled her to him.

"Ugh, you are so…_childish_," she bit out.

"And, yet you always play along."

"Does it _look_ like I'm playing with you?"

Derek laughed as she tickled his hands to loosen his hold. "Yes, it does."

They grappled, Casey smacking and pulling at his arms as he held her from behind.

"What's the matter, Case?" Derek teased, "Cheerleading not paying off like it used to?"

"You tell me."

She stepped on his right foot and he cried out, "Ow."

"That was mean," he said, spinning her around so that they were facing each other.

"Aww, Der, hockey not paying off like it used to?"

He scowled, but they were close, his arms still wrapped around her, and he faltered. Casey took advantage and struck down at the hollow of his elbows, escaping his grasp.

"Nice move," he conceded.

"Thanks, I try. Now can we sto-"

He pounced, reaching for her shoulders, and her hands pressed against his chest, holding him off. "…of course not," Casey muttered under her breath.

They struggled and started moving until they were stumbling down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Casey shifted her momentum so that Derek's back hit the wall.

"Umph," he grimaced, "Now was that _really_ necessary?"

"You hit me first."

"No, _you_ hit _me_ first," Derek insisted, pulling her into a head lock.

"You wouldn't move," she grumbled.

"Maybe you should've asked nicer."

The battle continued as they wrestled their way through the foyer, into the living room, and then towards the couch.

"You are so _difficult_," Derek grunted.

"Seems like you kind of like it."

Casey twisted, spinning him so that she had him by the neck, his back to her and the back of his head pressed against her shoulder.

"It's been a while since we did this," he gasped out.

"Oh, did you miss it?"

"Words cannot describe."

Derek grunted and walked her backwards until they stumbled back unto the couch. "God, you're heavy," Casey cried.

"It's all muscle."

She groaned as he shifted on top of her. "Under layers of scrawniness."

He pinned her down. "Does this feel like scrawniness to you?"

"No, it feels like 200 pounds of sculpted jackass."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

They continued wrestling, and it was playful, but different than usual. Derek's hands were firm, urgent and Casey felt annoyed and pleased at the same time.

Stuck, she acted instinctively. "Your fly's down."

"Wha-"

He blinked and she thrust under him, pushing him back and climbing over him. "Ha! Still easy."

"That's funny, I thought that's what people said about _you_."

Derek smirked as she smacked at him, practically in his lap as he tried to hold back her wrists. He finally succeeded and held them behind her back, his arms wrapped tight around her as she straddled him.

"You know," he said, "Life would be a lot easier if you just backed down and acknowledged that I _always_ win."

"No, then life would be a _fantasy_, Derek; there's a difference."

"Not if you're me."

"My point exactly."

They both smiled, and then laughed breathily as they sat close together. When Derek instinctively tightened his hold, shifting her even closer, she whispered. "What are you doing?

"I dunno," he said lamely, "What are you doing?"

She was silent and his eyes deepened intensely as she let him hold her. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that."

"I can't help it if I see you. Or, what?" he questioned, "Do you want me to burst into hysterical blindness?"

She sighed and tugged against his hold. When he read in her gaze that she was serious, he released her.

"You need to relax," Derek muttered as she sat on the couch beside him. There was space between them and he was annoyed.

"_I_ need to relax?" she glanced at his upright posture, "I've seen corpses less stiff."

"I only get like this because you're so difficult," he grumbled.

"Yeah, I know, I'm difficult; I got that already."

They sat silent, looking forward.

"Maybe we should exercise," Casey abruptly suggested.

Derek's face furrowed and he turned to her, confused. "Why do you never _ever _make any sense?"

Casey sighed, body angling towards him as she explained, "It's supposed to help release stress and tension."

"And help with those problem areas, too-"

"Derek, I'm serious."

"Of course you are," he said, eyes rolling.

"So what? You just want to roll around all day, playing doctor and having awkward moments?" When he just sat there, considering, Casey huffed, "We're going. Now, I mean it."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to weigh my options."

Casey glared and grabbed his hand, yanking him to his feet. They were standing close when he was upright and it was uncomfortable, but he didn't move.

He looked down at her and asked, "So, you're telling me that doing some laps will make _this_ go away?"

"No," she said slowly, "But, it might help."

Derek's eyes were strangely unreadable as she continued, "It would be nice to be able to spend time with you without it being all weird."

He quirked a brow. "Since when has time with each other not been weird?"

"Yeah, but not in a bad way."

"It's not all bad," he muttered.

She glanced away. "I didn't say that."

"You sort of really did."

His tone made her look back up and she questioned, "What, so you're getting emo on me now?"

"I'm _not_ emo. I'm just saying; if it was so bad I wouldn't want to touch you so much all the time," he moved closer, "And I definitely don't feel 'bad' or 'weird' when I'm doing it."

"Then what do you feel?" she asked quietly.

"I-"

"Wait, don't answer that. We can't do this." she interrupted him abruptly and moved back.

"Maybe we could if you'd stop cutting me off," he snapped.

His frame was tense again and she sighed and stepped towards him, trying to reason.

"Derek, do you remember what it was like before? When we were friends? When we could hang out? When we could actually talk for two minutes without trying to kill or grope each other. I mean, yeah, we faught, but, it wasn't like this," she sighed deeply, "And, I'd really like to go back to that."

"To what?" Derek challenged, "Newsflash, Casey: we were _never_ friends. I've wanted you for a long time. I just couldn't wrap my mind around how _ridiculously_ stupid it was of me."

"_Exactly_," she agreed, "But, what part of ridiculous and stupid are you not getting?"

But, he was hung up on another part. "You've wanted me this long, too?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation."Well, duh! But, that's not the point-"

"_No_, that's the only point," his hands traveled her arms to her neck and then her cheeks, palming them as he titled her head back, "Because if it was 'duh', I would have done this a long time ago."

His lips were on hers, urgent with passion, and when she kissed him back it made the most sense and no sense at all. Casey's palms flattened against his chest and she rasped out, "We have to stop."

"Why?"

Her eyes answered with confliction, "Because I want you."

"Peachy," he deadpanned, "So _what _is your problem?"

"I said I want you, dumbass," she shoved him this time, and he stumbled back from the force, "I don't want to lose you; I don't want to hate you. I just want you. I..." she shook her head, eyes filling with frustration as she looked back at him, "God, how could someone like you even begin to understand this?"

She was heading for the steps, but he grabbed angirly at her arm. "You think I'd put up with someone as crazy-nutso as _you_ if I didn't?"

"Then put on your damn running shoes and meet me outside!"

"Fine!" he barked back.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome!"

"Why are we still yelling?!"

"I'm not entirely sure!"

They looked at each other before stomping up the steps.


	15. Chapter 14

Note 1: I just wanted to assure you guys that although Dasey may seem stuck in a "cycle", there is a method to my madness (although, yes, I am pretty crazy). Hopefully, it won't be too frustrating to figure out. Feedback rocks. You rock...as usual. Thanks.

Note 2: This begins right after the last chapter.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Well, are you ready yet?!"

Casey burst into Derek's bedroom and he jumped, turning from his mirror. "Well, geez, give me a second, poltergeist."

Her face reddened when she realized he wasn't fully dressed. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she snapped.

"Why aren't you _knocking_?"

"That's..." she faltered, "Besides the point."

Derek huffed and quickly pulled a shirt over his head. "You're really going to drive me nuts one day."

"I think we traveled down that road a long time ago, Derek," she gestured to his dresser and ordered, "Don't forget deodorant this time," he rolled his eyes as he walked over to it and she continued, "Oh, and no body spray either. It doesn't mix well with-"

"Could you _not_ obsess over what I smell like?"

"Could you not smell?"

He grumbled, "God, you are so whiny."

"Hey, you'd be too if you had to smell you all the time."

"That doesn't even make sense," he grabbed his sneakers and sat on his mattress, "And, no other girls seem to have a problem with how I smell. "

"That's because your stench renders them speechless."

"Every one of them except _you _apparently."

Derek grunted, hastily tying his shoes; and, when he stood he was glowering at her. "I thought this was supposed to relieve tension. We haven't even stretched yet and I already want to strangle you..." He looked at her, considering, "Or jump you, I haven't decided yet."

"Hey!" she lifted an authoritative hand, "There will be no jumping unless it involves a rope. So do you have it?"

He squinted."Have what?"

"A rope."

"No."

"Then don't jump!"

"Funny," he mused, looking up at the ceiling, "This didn't_ seem_ like a psycho boot camp when I came in."

"_Ugh_," Casey huffed and pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, standing right in front him. "I am going to run your ass into the ground," she grolwed.

"Okayyy...um, I don't know what you were going for there, but that was _hawt_. So we need to go."

He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her out of his room.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Best. Workout. _Ever_." Casey was beaming with accomplishment as she and Derek entered the kitchen.

"Yeah, I almost broke a sweat this time."

Casey rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. "Oh, you're sweating alright," she wrinkled her nose, "At least you smell like it anyway."

"Yeah, you like?" he lifted his arm for her to sniff and she quickly moved away.

"Eww, _Derek_."

"What? It's Derek: au naturale."

"More like Derek: needs more deodorant."

"Look, I'm wearing some, aren't I? Don't push it."

Casey sighed and poured herself a glass of water. She took a few gulps before saying, "I feel relaxed. You?"

"Yeah," Derek grabbed a Gatorade, "My calves are sore though."

"Aw, baby, did I work you too hard?"

"Pfft, please, that was nothing," he rolled his eyes, but winched when her back was turned to him.

"We should try this again," she said obliviously, taking a seat at the island.

"Yeah, definitely. Especially when things are getting uh ummm…."

When she reached for her hair tie, eyes shutting in relief as her hair flowed about her shoulders, it was like a slow-motion sucker punch to the gut.

"….uh um uh…"

"Derek. You're missing."

"Huh-oh," he glanced down to where hewas pouring drink on himself. "Um, wow, uh," he wiped at his shirt, "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Doing it more often," she flushed instantly and he coughed, "Running, ha, I meant running…_obviously_."

She laughed ridiculously before turning and ducking her head behind her hair. When she finally looked back, Derek was reaching for the hem of his shirt as if to discard it.

"Um, do you mind?" she said, cheeks heating uncomfortably.

"Do I mind…?"

Casey sighed, blushing as she gestured to his shirt. "Don't make me say it."

Derek looked down and then quickly back up. "Oh….well, if were going to mention wardrobe options, those shorts are a little skimpy, don't ya think?"

"They're almost down to my knees."

"I can still see thigh," he groused.

"And, what about you? You're the one bulging through your t-shirt like the hulk or something."

"Have you _seen_ your hips?"

"Um, hello? Your mouth…"

" And, don't get me started on your…" he made cupping gestures with his hands, but trailed off at her look, "Uh, um…wanna do some more sprints?"

She grabbed her hair tie. "Yup, let's go."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Oh, god, we can't keep doing this," Casey collapsed on the porch steps, Derek following soon behind her.

"I know," he panted, "I think my knees are about to give," he grunted and pulled himself up to a sitting position, "Can you make it inside?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Me either." He turned, looking at her, as if deciding, and then cursed, "_Crap_."

"What?"

"You're still hot," he glowered, "I thought you said this exercise stuff was supposed to work."

"It's supposed to relieve stress; not work miracles."

"Cute," he deadpanned.

They were quiet for a while, breathing heavily and shifting on the steps.

"Maybe we should wait it out," Derek suggested, breath still labored, "See if it kicks in."

She sent him a sideways glance. "You just don't want to move, do you?"

"Not for another hour or so, no."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Look at this!"

Casey's eyes bulged as Derek ran into her room, wielding a thick, hardcover book. "Do you see this?" he asked, holding the book in front of her.

"Yeah, I know. Since when do you read?"

"Ugh, not that!" Derek sighed and pointed to a line in the text, "Exercise can actually _enhance _physical attraction."

She leaned back in her chair, lips forming a sheepish "Oh."

"Yeah, '_oh_',"Derek glared accusingly. "I thought you were supposed to be smart!"

"Okay, so maybe I was wrong. But, jeez, it's not like I tried to poison you or something."

"Or so you say," he watched her, eyes narrowing.

"You are insane," she said, standing, "I mean actually insane."

"And _you_ are misinformed," Derek argued, waving the book in the air, "I mean sure, I'm in the best shape of my life; but, this has got to stop. No more sprints, no more laps, and definitely no more lunges in those tight, sexy spandexy things."

"No one forced you to wear those, Derek."

"I was chaffing," he cried indignantly. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "Well, at least this explains why I couldn't stop staring at your ass."

"You always stare at my ass," she muttered absently.

"Oh, yeah. Good point."

"Obviously this exercising thing isn't going to work," Casey deduced.

"Well, I'm sure everyone saw that coming."

"Ugh," she groaned, "Why is this so complicated?"

They walked over to her bed and sat quietly next to each other, thinking.

"Remember last year when Jennifer Bale poured gravy all over my head in the cafeteria?" Derek began after a moment.

Casey's brow furrowed, concentrating. "Um…oh, oh you mean when you dumped her because you were too lazy to keep walking to her new locker?"

"Yeah, the one by Home Ec."

She looked at him expectantly, but when he didn't say anything else, she prompted, "Isn't this the part where you point out some uncanny parallel to our current situation?"

"I thought I just did."

"Um, I was right here. I think I would have noticed."

Derek rolled his eyes. "And, you call yourself a nerd…"

"No, I don't-"

But, he just continued on, "….I've run like twenty miles this week…and that's not counting sprints, push ups, and jazzercise."

She bit back a smile.

"I don't know," Derek said lowly, "Maybe that's why real relationships _suck ass _so much. They're complicated, embarassing, painful...and leave you _really_ sore."

Casey's smile grew as she regarded his obvious discomfort with the subject matter. "This whole thoughtfulness thing is really killing you, isn't it?"

He sighed and fell back unto her bed. "You have _no_ idea."

Casey patted his chest. Her hand lingered there, and then she turned, drawing her legs unto the mattress as she kneeled next to him. Curious, Derek leaned up slightly. But her firm hand kept him down. "Wait. Don't move," she said, "I wanna try something."

His eyes widened, but he was still as she leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. His eyes remained trained on her as she pulled back.

"I don't get it," he whispered.

"We kissed," she explained, "And the world didn't implode."

Her laughter was a sudden, pretty sound and he quickly joined her. "You're so weird," he murmured.

"I just thought maybe if we didn't make it such a big deal it wouldn't be one."

"Like penalty shots?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, sure, Derek, whatever."

"No, I'm serious," he persisted, sitting up, "They're a big deal 'n all, but, you can't think they're a big deal or else you'll choke, lose your cool, probably puke a bit, and throw the game."

Casey nodded slowly, considering. "Someone's been practicing their metaphors."

"Well, I guess you're rubbing off on me."

She snorted. "I wish my hygiene would rub off on you."

"Uh, as much as I'd love to smell fruity all the time, I'll pass."

"I do not smell fruity," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, please, you smell like an orchid exploded in your hair."

"_Hey_." She punched his shoulder and he shoved hers a little.

"Come on, Spacey, hay is for horses."

She bared her teeth and neighed at him, making his forehead wrinkle quizzically.

"Um, okay. I'm not sure whether I should be impressed or disturbed by how authentic that was."

Casey snorted and fell back, laughing hysterically on the bed. "This is one of the stupidest conversations I've ever had."

"And, you're giddy about this why?"

" 'Cause it's not weird, silly," Her foot kicked softly at his chest.

"Well, it's definitely not normal."

She giggled some more; but when she finally settled, she turned to him and continued more seriously, "Thanks for walking to the locker. It means a lot."

He frowned. "What locker?"

"Oh, god, never mind."

She rolled her eyes and burst into laughter again.

* * *


	16. Chapter 15

Note 1: Thanks for the constant feedback guys. It really does inspire me to keep writing. Also, thanks for pointing out some of the errors, too. This obviously isn't Beta-checked, so thanks for bearing with me.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Hey, buddy."

"Hey, friend."

"Would you like a muffin? Maybe some tea?"

"Why, thank you. I'd love some."

Casey grinned, barely containing laughter as Derek offered her the tray of muffins and proceeded to fill her cup.

"How was your day?" He asked cordially.

"Marvelous, yours?"

"Fetching," he chirped, "I had a rousing go at hockey."

"Oh, that sounds quite charming."

"Quite indeed."

They smiled whimsically at each other as Sam entered the kitchen, shaking his head.

"You guys are so odd."

"We're not odd," Derek insisted, "We're polite."

"I'm teaching Derek manners," Casey explained, lips quirking.

"Riiight," Sam said, "Because that should only take an hour or two."

"It's a life long lesson," Derek replied sagely.

Sam just looked at him for a long moment. "Does this mean you'll stop farting on your palm before shaking peoples' hands?"

"Eww!" Casey's hand jumped from her tea cup.

"Relax, I don't do it to you…often," Derek turned back to Sam, "And, no, probably not."

"Didn't think so."

"It's all about taking small steps," Derek reasoned.

Casey's face twisted in disgust as he stuffed a muffin into his mouth. "How about taking small bites?"

Sam shrugged, "At least he used his hands this time."

"But, how else would he…" she shook her head, "You know what, I don't wanna know."

"Yeah, you probably don't," he nodded towards the living room, "Are we checking out the game, or what?"

"One sec, I gotta finish my tea," Off Sam's look, Derek cleared his throat and jumped from the stool, "I mean, damn straight we are!"

They bumped fists and headed for t.v.; but Derek lingered around after. "Hey," he whispered back, "Can you put that in mug and bring it outside?"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Oh, my god, they're actually _winning_," Derek was on the edge of his recliner as he gaped at the screen, "This hasn't happened in what, months?"

"One month, twenty-four days, and five home games," Casey muttered automatically.

Derek and Sam slowly turned from the t.v. and stared at her.

"_What?_"

"Since when are you Rain Man?"

"I'm good with numbers; sue me."

"Dude," Sam said, pulling his attention back to the game, "If they can hold them off for one more quarter, it's a win. An actual win."

The goalie blocked a shot and Derek cried out, "_Yes!"_

"_No, no, no!"_

The front door swung open and Lizzie ran up the stairs in a huff.

"Lizzie, are you alright?" Casey called, standing.

"MY LIFE SUCKS," came her wail from upstairs.

"Casey," Derek griped, ushering her to the side with his arm, "You're blocking the screen."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Derek, Lizzie is obviously upset."

"Yeah, and I'm willing to bet she'll still be in nineteen minutes and twenty seconds."

"_Ugh_, you are unbelievable."

Casey glowered at him before huffing, and stomping up the stairs.

"Déjà vu, much?" Sam mumbled.

"Tell me about it."

_II_

"Okay, so what's the earth-shattering emergency?" Derek asked, annoyed as he stood in Casey's room five minutes later.

Casey glared and stood from her bed. "What took you so long?"

"What-what took me so long? Are you batty, woman? I was in the middle of perhaps the only winning game of the year."

"And Lizzie was obviously upset about something. I mean I could barely get anything out of her she was so worked up."

"So let me get this straight," Derek said, crossing his arms and reading her, "Are you mad because I didn't care that she was upset, or that _you_ were upset?"

Off her furious look, he held up two conciliatory hands. "Alright, jeez, forget I asked. I'm here, okay?"

"Probably because there was a commercial break," she grumbled.

"Casey, could you try not being a brat for _two_ seconds? Just tell me what's wrong so I can help fix it."

"Who said I wanted your help?" she lifted her chin, "We can fix it ourselves."

"_No_," he said, stepping closer, "You can't. That's why you did your whole pouty / come run after me thing."

She stood there, looking stubbornly back at him for a moment before finally bursting, "We need to raise $300 to beat that _hussy _Tawny Roberts in the karate fundraiser!"

"Wait, who, wha?-"

"You wouldn't _believe_ the things she said to Lizzie," she spat out, "About her hair and her clothes and her high kick. She has an _excellent_ high kick," Her eyes narrowed, "That tacky little shrew!"

"Three-_hundred_ dollars," he sputtered, "Legally?"

"At this point I don't even care," she sighed and glared sullenly out the door, "She made Lizzie cry, Derek."

"Woah, hey," he lifted his hands, "You know I don't do tears."

"Then do what you do best and _win_," she demanded, getting in his face, "Be that reckless, arrogant, competitive ass I know you can be."

Derek's posture straightened instantly under her gaze.

"_Okay_?" she persisted.

He nodded. "That hussy's going down."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Alright," Derek said, rubbing his hands together, "Let's see what we're dealing with here. Casey," he prompted, head tilting curtly in her direction.

Casey nodded back and began passing out sheets of paper to Derek, Edwin, and Lizzie.

"What are these?" Edwin whispered to Lizzie.

"She made handouts."

"Okay," Casey said, clearing her throat as she stood in front of them, "As you can see on page four, section B," she paused a little as she heard paper shuffling, "Tawny aka Trampsty..." she rolled eyes at Derek's nickname, "Has already raised $300 in funds."

"Wait, I don't get it," Derek muttered, squinting at his sheet.

Casey sighed and walked over to him, turning it right side up.

"_Oh_, okay."

"How much has Lizzie raised?" Edwin inquired.

"Good question," Casey answered, "If you'll refer to section F part 3," she paused again, "You can see that Lizzie's raised…"

"$2.26?!" Derek squeaked.

"I've been busy," Lizzie defended indignantly, "Trig is really complicated."

"This is impossible," Edwin groaned.

"Hey, hey" Derek said, standing, "No quitting, okay? I've gotten out of situations a lot messier, a lot more dangerous, and often times a lot more illegal than this. And, it's definitely…" he trailed off and looked at the handout again, "…2.26! That's not even three dollars, I mean that's not even 10 percent of…"

"_Derek_," Casey chided.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat, "Lost my cool for a moment."

Lizzie's face fell and Casey quickly rushed to her side, "Don't worry, Liz, we're gonna figure this out," she glanced pointedly at Derek, "Aren't we, Derek?"

"Right. Right," he folded his arms, pacing for a moment, before turning back to Lizzie, "Tell me about this Trampsty girl. Is she overweight at all?"

Lizzie shook her head. "Um, no, not really."

"_Perfect_. If there's anything I've learned from tormenting Casey this long, it's that skinny girls _hate_ it when guys think they're fat."

"You think I'm skinny?" Casey asked, beaming.

"_Stay focused_," Derek admonished. "So we need some random guys to insult all week. Edwin…"

He flipped open his palm pilot. "I'm already on it."

"Good. Now, let me think," he paused for another moment, contemplating, "Has she asked people at school for any money yet?"

"Just the teachers I think," Lizzie answered.

"Oh, so she's obviously a keener. I'll spread the word, and, I don't know, Casey maybe you could try being seen with her a few times."

Casey frowned a little. "Um, alright."

"Now that we've covered social guerilla warfare, it's time to talk money," he glanced at the sheet again and shook his head, "We're gonna have to start from square one."

"A bake sale?" Casey offered.

"Um, yeah, okay, so why don't you just sit there and look skinny for a bit, 'kay?"

"Well, I thought it was a good idea," she muttered.

"Although, wait second….that _is_ a great idea."

"Really?" Casey instantly perked up.

"Really?" Edwin and Lizzie repeated skeptically.

"Really. It's so lame that Tawny will have to let down her guard—that is if she hasn't buckled under the fat keener jokes," he nodded, smiling, "Good job, Spacey."

She set her hands on her hips and glared determinedly. "Laugh all you want, but my brownies _will_ raise a hundred dollars. I don't care if I have to sprinkle crack in them to do it."

Derek faltered a bit, caught off guard by her fervor. When he finally smirked, his eyes reflected bemused admiration. "Okay, Case, do your thing," he turned back to others, "And, I'll do mine. We'll take some cool, over-dramatic pictures of you during karate, get your name around school, and do a Derek sponsored fundraiser."

"What do I do?" Lizzie asked.

"Do you that whole cute, I'm an innocent, but shrewd freshmen thing, and woo the parents."

"Cool!"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Hey, buddy!"

"Hey, friend!"

Derek grinned as Casey bounded the steps, their hands clapping in a high five when she reached the bottom.

"Whatcha been up to?" she sung.

"I dunno, what have _you _been up to?"

"Well, I don't know about _you_, but _I_ just finished helping Lizzie raise $150!" She grinned giddily at him and patted his chest, "Now, tell me what you did."

"Well, it wasn't _completely_ legal," he joked, "But, hello two-hundred buckaroos."

"AH, DEREK."

He stumbled back as she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist as she planted excited kisses all over his face.

"Okay, okay, Spunky," he gasped out, setting her down,"You're grateful, I get it."

"I can't believe you pulled that off."

"I can't believe you almost put crack in your brownies."

"Did we do it, did we do it?!" Lizzie called as she and Edwin came running down the steps a few seconds later.

Casey squealed. "We _so _did it."

They hooted and began dancing around in clumsy circles.

"Oh, yeah, oh yeah," Lizzie sung.

Edwin pumped his fist, "This is so awesome. I mean, sure I got slapped three times, but it was totally worth it."

"I say we celebrate," Casey said, "But…since we're all broke, that probably just means more brownies."

"I'm down with that," Edwin said.

Casey leaned over and gave Derek a shoulder bump as they headed for the kitchen. "See what happens when you use your powers for good and not evil?"

"Mean little girls cry?"

She grinned. "Exactly."


	17. Chapter 16

Note 1: I'm running out of ways to thank you guys for feedback. So, this time I'm going to perform an interpretive dance. Sure, you can't actually see it, but it's the thought that counts ;)

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…you have to find the derivative first," Casey was explaining as she and Derek sat at the dining room table, "Then, when you divide it by this, it actually equals '1'."

"Right," Derek muttered, scribbling something on his paper, "And, what's a derivative again?"

Casey's eyes bulged. "Derek, derivatives are the foundation of Calculus. Without differentiation and integration the whole science is basically nonsense. I mean you might as well just throw out the textbook and count on your toes…" she trailed off when she realized he was just watching her, a small smile touching his lips. She sighed and shook her head, "You're messing with me again, aren't you?"

"I can't help it; it's too easy," Derek said, laughing, "Plus, I sorta like it when you get all worked up about math."

"I was not worked up," she mumbled, eyes traveling sheepishly back to her work.

"You were _outrageously_ worked up. You were two seconds away from quoting Scripture."

"Doofus." She rolled her eyes, but her voice held a hint of amusement, "Well, do you get it or not?"

"I get it," he assured her, "You just, you know, divide and move around the little thingy."

"You mean the exponent?" Casey guessed.

"Yeah, that's what I said."

She was poised to retort when his phone went off, blaring some lame rap song.

"Hey, Charlotte," Casey rolled her eyes as he continued, "Yeah, unh huh, of _course_ we're on for Friday…mhmm, okay. Yeah, I can't wait either…Later."

He flipped the phone off, and Casey began to comment, when, once again, his phone went off. "Danielle, hey, I was just thinking about you….yeah, I know, crazy, isn't it? Mhmm…Friday? No, that's really not the best night for me…sure, that's _perfect_…cya."

Casey watched, appalled, as he hung up and turned back to his homework. "So, what's up with number 9?" When she didn't respond, he glanced up, oblivious, "What?"

"You just…" Casey looked at him for a moment, before finally sighing and shaking her head. "Forget it. It's nothing."

It was Derek's turn to sigh as he set his pencil down. "You know I hate when you do that. Just say it."

"It's just," she paused, considering her words, "It's just really hard to trust you when I see you playing girls like that all the time."

"Hey," Derek defended, popping his collar, "Don't hate the player; hate the game."

"Derek, this is adult time okay?"

"What do you want me to say? That's who I am: me. I am me."

"Yeah, I know," she muttered, looking back at her notes.

Derek winched a little at the way she said it, and it was quiet as they continued working.

"Well, hypothetically speaking," he began after a moment, "If I met someone with half an IQ point, that I really wanted, I mean…it wouldn't…" he trailed off, frustrated by his loss of words. "It would be so much easier I could just use lines on you."

She snorted. "I'll bet."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Let's not that talk about this anymore," she said after a moment. "Let's just finish up, okay?"

Derek exhaled, "Casey…"

He huffed as her cell phone went off this time. She glanced at the screen for a moment, skimming a text message, before flipping it closed.

"Who was it?"

"No one," she blurted.

His brows furrowed as he regarded her. "Last time I checked, non-existent beings don't send prank text messages."

"Just leave it," she muttered, going back to her math problem, "It's not important."

"If it's not important, why can't you just tell me?"

She sighed and looked up. "It was Toby, okay?"

"Why is Toby text messaging you?"

Casey let out a groan of exasperation and sat back in her seat. "See, this is exactly why I wasn't going to tell you. I knew you would get all crazy."

"I'm not getting crazy, I'm getting confused," Derek differentiated, "I thought you guys were through?"

"We are. But it's... complicated."

"Hmmm," Derek grunted, demeanor cool as he picked up his pencil again, "That's interesting. I mean, I uh don't see what's so complicated about being in a relationship with someone. You either are or you aren't, right? But, hey, what do I know?"

Casey rolled her eyes. "What are you babbling about?"

"I'm just saying; if you're over him, there shouldn't be anything 'complicated' to work out, now should there?"

Casey sent him an utterly disbelieving look. "Are you _really_ going there right now?'

"I don't know, is there somewhere to go?"

"For the last time," Casey said, voice exasperated, "I am _not_ interested in Toby."

"You seem pretty 'complicated' for someone not interested."

"And you seem pretty crazy for someone not crazy."

When Derek just continued to scowl, arms crossed, she sighed and continued on, ticking off points on her fingers.

"He uses way too much slang, he has no sense of humor, he agrees with everything thing I say, and to be frank, he's not that great of a hockey player. You should _really_ re-evaluate your choice of friends," she huffed and glared back at him, "Happy?"

Derek glanced down at the table and mumbled, "A little."

"And, could you be anymore hypocritical?"

"I'm not hypocritical; I'm consistent," Derek reasoned, "I've never liked it when you've dated guys, and here I am, still not liking it when you're dating a guy."

"We're _not_ dating. We're not even near dating. We can't even see dating we're so far from it."

"Then it shouldn't be complicated!"

"Oh, so you want to talk about things that shouldn't be complicated?'" Casey said, face flushing with anger, "How about a supposed 'bestest guy friend' who wants you to trust him but humps everything with a pulse."

"And starring in another unrelated, but overly dramatic production: Casey MacDonald!"

Casey jerkily grabbed her book from the table, "I can't be around you when you're like this."

"Well, then I guess I should be like this more often, shouldn't I?"

"Ugh, you are so infuriating," she growled, heading for the steps.

"Really? 'Cause you're just a _burst _of sunshine."

"Oh, bite me," she called back from the steps, "And, I'm not dating him, you idiot!"

He stood from his seat and shouted back at her, "And, I'm not humping anyone!"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

Derek was opening his locker, when Sam approached him, silent, but solemnly shaking his head. After a few seconds, when he still didn't speak, Derek rolled his eyes.

"What are you, Lassie? What am I supposed to get from that?"

"Dude, it's not good."

"Let me guess? Casey fell down the well?"

"Well, it does involve her…" he said, trailing off uncomfortably.

Derek's countenance immediately sobered, back straightening. "Is she alright?"

"Yeah, she is now. But…I don't know…" He scratched the back of his head and glanced away.

"Sam," Derek began, taking a deep, calming breath, "I'm going to need you to speak _English_ and cut to the chase."

"You know how a lot of the team messes with Toby about striking out with Casey? Well, uh I think he kind of panicked, and uh…"

"And, what?" Derek persisted, exasperated.

"…He may have…embellished a little, if you know what I mean."

"If I ever knew you what you meant, my life would be a lot easier, wouldn't it?"

"He said that they were gonna go out tonight and uh, you know…" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Derek stared at him for a moment, face eerily unreadable, before growling, "Oh, _hell no!_"

He slammed his locker door and demanded, "Where is he?"

"Okay, maybe you should calm down just a bi-"

"I said, '_where is he_'?"

Sam quickly blurted, "By the gym."

"Thank you."

Derek took off down the hall, and Sam hesitated before following after him.

"You know, I heard counting to ten and spinning in a circle can help with anger….or wait," He paused, thinking, "Maybe that just makes you dizzy."

But, Derek just ignored him as they approached Toby, who was talking to a few friends at the end of the corridor. "Toby, my man, my homeboy," Derek greeted, smiling tightly as he grabbed the back of his collar, "How's it goin'?"

"Um, uh," Toby stuttered a bit, disoriented.

"Great, fascinating. Let's talk, shall we?"

"I-"

He was silenced as Derek spun him around and slammed him roughly up against the locker. "Dude, did I miss something?"

"No, no I don't think so. I'm pretty sure you would have been there when you were waxing poetic about your big 'plans' tonight."

"Derek, relax man, it's not what you think."

"Oh, oh, so it's not what I think, huh?'

"No, no definitely not," he squeaked.

"So, what is it then?"

"Derek," Sam finally interjected, "Maybe you shouldn't…"

But, he was cut off as Toby took the opportunity to shove Derek away. Derek grabbed for him again and Toby answered with fist to his face.

Derek winched, but sniped, "God, could you punch anymore like a girl?"

Derek swung back at him, pouncing, and the fight began.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

Casey was just entering the foyer when she got the call from Emily. She smiled a little bit before answering, "Oh, hey Em, how's it…_what_? When…are you-are you serious… I can't _believe_ him," her brow furrowed in concern when Emily continued, "Oh, my god, is he alright…?"

The front door swung open seconds later, revealing a disheveled Derek. Casey turned, dropping her book bag and staring at him as Emily ranted on the line, "Unh huh, okay… so no he's not _really_ in the E.R. He's right here…" she rolled her eyes before nodding and muttering, "Yeah, I'll call you later."

Derek raised a reassuring hand as she walked over to him. "Don't worry, I'm okay."

But, she greeted him with a smack upside the head.

"_Oww_. What was that for?"

"For being a complete retard…again."

"Um, feel free to say _'thank you'_ anytime you want."

"Uh," she gasped, "As if!"

"You're welcome," he deadpanned, glowering.

"I can't believe you. What gives you the right to go on some ridiculous crusade and pummel Toby?"

He squinted. "You did catch the part about him spreading rumors, right?"

"You don't even know what he actually said; and, even if he was, that's for me to deal with. I mean, god, you could have gotten suspended or kicked off the team. Are you really that challenged?"

"Well, excuse me for trying to protect you."

"I'm a big girl, Derek; not a cheerleader in distress. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, and you're doing a _superb_ job," he applauded.

"Right, let's ridicule Casey's love life, and skip right over how deluded you're being. Like you're really any different."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Casey huffed and rolled her eyes. "You treat girls like crap all the time. Yet, the second one of your friends slip up you go riding off on your high horse."

"I would _never_ treat you like that."

"Right, because jackassery is just some switch you can turn on and off."

"Wait- what…" He shook his head, face scrunched in consternation, "Are we fighting about Toby or about us?"

"Does it matter? On both issues, as usual, you're wrong."

When Casey pushed past him and started her familiar march to her room, Derek threw his hands up in the air.

"And, Casey's always right, isn't she? She's the 'big girl' who can take care of herself by running off in a huff!"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Can you pass me the October issue?" Emily asked.

Casey sighed, distracted as she handed Emily the magazine. They were hanging out at Emily's since Casey was too agitated to be at home.

"Mmm, Justin Timberlake: oh, how you've grown," she laughed, but when Casey just sat there, Emily rolled her eyes, "You're not still upset about earlier, are you?"

She glowered, "I'm just so annoyed with Derek," she sighed and glanced over at the magazine, "But, yeah, Timberlake is pretty hot."

"Tell me about it. What do you think though, Justin or Brad?"

"Definitely Brad," Casey eyes clouded, thinking, "God, what an ass."

"No doubt. He's definitely not lackin' in the backin', if you know what I mean."

Casey stared at her a moment, confused, before saying, "I meant Derek."

"Oh, oh right."

"I mean, I can't believe him sometimes. It's like it's his mission in life to be as stupid and thoughtless as possible."

"Seriously," Emily replied, "I mean how dare he do something as stupid and thoughtless as defending your virtue."

"Exac-oh, god," Casey stopped, frowning, "You're making a point, aren't you?"

Emily sighed and leaned back against the headboard. "Don't worry, I won't rub it in."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I'm sorry, you must be lost," Derek began as Casey slowly entered his room, "The 'Hissy Fit Lounge' is three doors down."

"No, actually, I've sort of been there, done that."

Derek regarded her curiously as she approached him at his desk. "I'm confused," he said, "Why aren't you yelling yet?"

"I think I've met my quota for the day."

"Wait, so there's actually some sort of limit to it," he laughed a little, "That's a relief."

Casey's lips tightened slightly, but she shrugged it off. "Look, I was thinking about earlier…"

"Oh, god, here we go again…"

"…and I wanted to apologize."

"….you just always have to…what?"

Casey took a deep breath, her right hand wringing her left. "I freaked out and overreacted and…you were just trying to be sweet. And, god knows, I realize how difficult that is for you."

Derek just watched her as she continued, "Thank you. For…defending my virtue," she finished, rolling her eyes at how backwards the notion was.

"Okay," Derek snorted, "Someone's been talking to Emily."

"And, someone's been watching too many Tarzan movies," she returned.

"Me Derek; you Princess."

"Um…I don't even know how to respond to that," she said, squinting. She shook her head, before continuing, "So are we good?"

"Well, I could take a page from your very pink book and throw a fit, but…I'll pass. We're good."

Her eyes fell on his freshly formed black eye and she walked over to him, frowning. He turned in his seat and she set her left hand on his shoulder, and her right gingerly on the side of his face. She grimaced. "Does it hurt?"

"It's getting better," he mumbled. He shrugged a little, "He's pretty weak though."

"Yeah, I'm sure he is. Unlike you."

She had to force herself not to roll her eyes again, to let him have this ego boost, no matter how silly.

"Well, duh," his smirk was cocky. But after a moment, it fell as he glanced away.

Casey sensed his discomfort and frowned. "What?"

"Is that the only way I'm not like him?"

"Derek..."

"You know what, never mind, forget it. Don't answer that."

Casey's face softened instantly. He was rarely this vulnerable about anything, and it was unsettling.

"Honestly," she said, lifting her chin and folding her arms with conviction, "I think he's about half the man you are...if not less."

Derek's eyes jumped up at her, wordless.

"And, yes, if you ask me if I said that later, I'll deny it."

"Don't worry, I don't think I'll forget," he murmured.

They looked at each other, and their gazes were gentler than usual. Casey laughed a little, finally looking away. "And, to think I was angsting over how to let him down easy. Now I wish I'd let him down a cliff."

"I can pummel him again, if you want me to."

Casey laughed again, until she realized he was serious, sitting upright in his chair. She was struck with the sudden urge to hug him. But, knowing how incredibly awkward he was about such things, she settled for a shoulder shove.

"Maybe next week, champ."


	18. Chapter 17

Note 1: Okay, so saying this part is long overdue would be the understatement of the century; but, alas, I've finally finished the new part. Thanks to all of you who were patient and sent out reviews. I hope this won't be a let down.

Note 2: Okay, so I know I'm totally using the cliché of getting everyone else out of the house in this chapter, but I couldn't help it. There's just too much fun to be had when two unsupervised teens are left under one roof ;)

_IIIIIIIIIII_

_Knock…Knock._

"Derek?"

"No, it's the Ghost of Christmas Past—of course it's me. Open up."

Casey rolled her eyes, huffing slightly as she opened the closet door. Derek grunted a little as he took a seat beside her on the floor. "You're late," Casey hissed.

"And you're ridiculous. Why are we even meeting here?"

"You wanted privacy, no?"

"Yeah, _privacy_. Not a late night rendezvous at_ chez _cramped."

"Oh, gee, I'm sorry, all my other private lounges were booked for the night," Casey snapped sarcastically.

They pulled faces at each other in the dark.

"Did anyone follow you?" Casey asked after a moment.

It was Derek's turn to roll his eyes. "This isn't a spy movie, Spacey; it's our house. Everyone's asleep."

"I know, but you walk so loudly; it's like you're galloping or something."

"Well, excuse me for not doing pirouettes down the hallway; it's 3 o'clock in the morning; I'm a bit off my game."

"Well, that's obvious," she replied, voice irritated.

Derek exhaled deeply, but restrained himself. "Let's just get this over with, okay?"

"Fine."

"Did you bring a flashli—_ah_," Derek groaned as the harsh light suddenly hit his face.

"Sorry," Casey mumbled, shifting it away.

"Like that wasn't on purpose," Derek grumbled.

"No," Casey flashed the light at him again, "_That_ was on purpose. The first time was an accident."

Casey lowered the flashlight again, but not before catching Derek's glower. "I made a list of things to take into consideration," Casey said, spreading out a sheet of paper in front of them under the light.

"Of course you did…" Derek muttered.

He hunched over slightly as Casey continued, "…but setting up our alibis is the most important."

"Alibi's?"

Casey sighed and looked up. "It's an excuse or…"

"No, no, I understand what an 'alibi' is," Derek interjected, rolling his eyes, "What I don't understand is why you're using criminal jargon."

Casey shrugged. "I was bored," beat, "Plus, this whole 'being bad' thing is kind of fun."

"Pfft. This is amateur."

"Correction: _was _amateur until I decided to help."

Derek sent her an incredulous glance in the dark. "Please; I'll be surprised if you even go through with it."

"And, why wouldn't I go through with it?"

"Oh, where to begin," Casey's eyes narrowed as he began to tick of points on his fingers, "You don't like to lie, you've never snuck out before, you don't go to parties, you can't keep secrets…

"I can too keep secrets."

"Yeah, for five seconds—three if Emily's around."

"_Hey_."

"Casey," Derek admonished, voice calm.

After a moment under his critical gaze, Casey sighed and relented. "Okay, so maybe I suffer from a _slight_ inability to keep a secret…"

Derek snorted.

"…and some of the other stuff may or may not be true, but, _you _always play it way over the top. They'll never buy what you're selling," she reasoned, "I should do the talking."

Derek just shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "Not gonna happen."

Casey was indignant. "I have _much_ better oratorical skills."

"I um, I don't know what that means," Derek admitted flippantly, "but, no. You can't keep a secret; it won't work."

Casey huffed. "Fine, you can talk; but, tone it down; don't say you're having a study group like last year."

"_Fine_; I got it."

"So what about our alibis?" Casey questioned, moving on.

Derek shrugged. "We'll say we're going to a movie with Sam. Dad and Nora will be out of town for their mushy romantic getaway anyway, so we're golden."

"Um, yeah, except for the fact that we never do things together on Saturdays."

"Sure we do."

"No, actually we don't. Fridays we hang out. Saturdays you have to go 'repair your reputation' as you so eloquently put it."

"Huh, yeah, now I remember. You threw the remote at me," he smirked, recalling that particular squabble, "Okay, then I'll say I'm hanging with the guys at Sam's and you can say you're staying home to, uh, I don't study or practice recitations."

Casey's brows pinched in irritation, "That is _not_ how I spend my weekends…well, okay, sometimes I do recitations, but that's besides the point," she sighed, "I'll say Emily and I are having a girls' night."

"Sounds good," Derek said through a yawn, "Are we done here?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He nodded and Casey clicked off the flash light as they both stood in the cramped closet.

Derek heard a thud followed by Casey hissing "ow," and he instantly placed a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm—babe?"

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, "Reflex."

"Since when is it reflex to give me pet names?"

Derek's embarrassment was replaced with agitation as he scowled down at her. "I'm _tired_, let it go. Now, are you okay, or not?"

Casey offered her own glare. "I'm fine."

"Good," Derek said, opening the door and walking into the dim lighting of the hallway, "Now, let's get to bed."

"…"

"Bed_**s**_; separate beds," Derek amended instantly, "Sorry, my mind's slipping."

"Apparently," Casey mumbled.

They exchanged one last awkward glance before heading for their respective bed rooms.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

The next morning Derek met Casey at the top of the stairs where she was waiting expectantly.Casey huffed and glared pointedly at him as he stood beside her.

"You're late. Again."

"And_ you're_ wearing white after Labor Day."

"It's not white, it's ivory," she said prissily.

Derek just squinted at her and she rolled her eyes. "Never mind. You ready?"

They exchanged nods before heading down the steps, Derek intentionally lagging behind. After Casey had been in the kitchen for a few moments, Derek entered. The rest of the Venturi-MacDonald Clan was engaged in their usual morning bustle.

"Morning, Derek." George greeted.

"And a wonderful morn to you as well," Derek said theatrically.

George's brows furrowed and Casey sent him a warning glance from across the room.

"I think someone's excited to see us leave town," Nora observed.

"What? Was that today?"

Nora smiled knowingly as Casey rolled her eyes. "Yes, Derek, it is. I'm sure you have plans?"

"Yeah, actually, I was thinking about throwing a rockin' rave with obscenely loud music, beer, maybe some heroine."

"Derek, that's not funny," Nora chided as George attempted to hide his grin, "We're trusting you to behave while we're gone."

"_Relax_. I'm kidding," Derek assured her, "I won't even be home to throw a party again. I'm hangin' with the guys at Sam's."

"Alright," Nora said warily, "But, I mean it. No parties."

"No parties in the house," Derek raised his right hand, "Scouts honor."

Nora eyed him for a moment before nodding and turning to Casey. "Do you have any plans, sweetie?"

Casey's froze a little under the pressure, but before she could stutter out a reply, Derek interjected. "If you call some lame 'girls' night' with Em plans," he sniped.

"It is not lame," Casey defended, instantly falling into the rhythm of their usual bickering, "It's the same thing as 'hangin' with the guys' sans belching and B.O."

Derek smirked. "I'm sure you and Em could hold your own."

"_Ah_. You are so…"

Nora turned and left the two to their bickering. "Were you able to get a ride to the Karate tournament, Liz?"

"Yeah. Mrs. Ferguson's picking me up after she gets out from work."

"Mrs. Ferguson?" George questioned, "The one with the stinky car?"

"_Ewww_," Marti cried, nose twisting.

Edwin nodded. "Yeah, even her kids smell."

"Jessica does not smell," Lizzie interjected.

"That's just because you hang around her so much. You don't notice it anymore. Kind of like when you're in a room that smells for a long time."

Lizzie just rolled her eyes as Nora continued. "And, Edwin, you'll be staying at Matt's?

"Yeah, we're going to build a Lego machine that scratches your armpit for you."

"Um, that's…great," Nora replied blankly.

"_I'm playing with fire_," Marti sung.

George shot up in his seat. "_What_?'

"For the camping trip," Nora explained.

"Oh, right."

"…are so uptight," Derek was finishing as he and Casey continued to argue.

"Well, excuse me for having personal hygiene."

"You're both excused," Nora interrupted, "For disturbing breakfast with your bickering. Again."

" "Sorry" "

Nora just sighed and nodded as they all fell back into their morning routine.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"We are _so_ good," Derek said as he Casey entered the empty house later that day. Casey grinned as they did another complicated handshake.

"Yeah, we're like Batman and Robin."

Derek snorted. "Sure, as long as I'm Batman."

"Why do I have to be the sidekick?"

"Well, _obviously _you can't be Batman," Derek reasoned, "He's Bat_man_; operative word 'man.'"

"Well, why can't I be Bat-person then?" Casey posited.

"Because that stupid."

Casey huffed. "Sexist, much?"

"_Lame_, much?" Derek rolled his eyes, "Look, you can be…Catwoman," he finished with smirk.

"I will _never_ be Catwoman to your Batwoman," Casey said, dropping her bag with a look of disgust, "And wasn't she, like, psychotic or something?"

"_Exactly_."

Casey glowered at him before heading up the steps. "I'm going to get ready."

"Don't forget the black vinyl!"

"Ass!"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"What do you think?"

"Well, it's no Cat suit, but it looks good on you."

"Seriously?"

Derek rolled his eyes before glancing over at her again as she squinted at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was wearing a blue halter, tight jeans, and heels. His mouth dropped open slightly. "_Seriously_."

"I feel like these pants make me look hippy," Casey said, oblivious as she stared at the mirror.

"Is it that a bad thing?"

Casey glanced away form the mirror to find Derek scoping her out and she cleared her throat. "Can I help you with something?"

Derek's eyes promptly darted back up to up hers, "What? You asked a question, I figured it was only _fair_ that I actually look, you know, to see if it was true or not."

Casey cocked a warning brow. "So I _do_ look hippy then?"

"Um…yee-" he noticed her eyes begin to narrow, "…no. _No_. Definitely not." He sighed when her countenance visibly relaxed. After a moment he added, "Although I don't know how hips suddenly became a bad thing."

"_Stop_ looking at my ass."

"Sorry," Derek sighed and obediently looked back up at the mirror. His voice was a bit tense as he muttered, "Better get used to it though."

"What's the supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just that those jeans are really tight. They don't exactly scream 'please look at my eyes and focus on my sparkling personality.'"

Casey crossed her arms and turned to him. "Are you calling me sluty?"

"No, never," beat, "I'm just saying your jeans are."

Casey's face reddened, but then her eyes widened in realization. "You just don't want me to wear these because they make me look hot."

"That would be correct," Derek admitted a-matter-of-factly, "Feel free to change anytime you like."

"Pfft. Like you won't have a stampede of girls in the _same_ jeans hoarding around you."

"And you know what kind of girls I go for," he said, smirking.

"What, you mean the breathing, two-legged kind?" his smirk fell as she continued, "I'll tell you what: I'll change my jeans when you stop macking on every other girl you see."

"That's not even the same thing."

"How is it different?"

Derek froze for a moment under her demanding gaze. "It just _is_."

"Ugh, I don't even why I asked."

"Me either," Derek grumbled.

She sighed, a long exhale before looking back into the mirror."How do I smell?"

She tilted her head so Derek could get a whiff, but he just continued to focus on his outfit. "Fruity."

"_Derek_. You didn't even sniff."

"That's because I already know what you smell like: like berries."

Casey's brows furrowed. "What, do you sniff me while I sleep?"

"No, that's when I trim your hair," he deadpanned.

Casey rolled her eyes before leaning over and taking a long whiff of him. Derek eyed her strangely as she stepped back. "You need a light cologne. But, not that spicy stuff you usually wear." Off his look, she questioned, "_What_?"

"Nothing," he finally said, lips quirking subtly before shaking head.

"Why don't you try the stuff I bought you?"

"Because I want to smell like a man, not a twelve year old girl."

Casey frowned. "I think it smells nice."

"Exactly. And, I don't want to smell '_nice'._"

"Well, that's obvious," Casey sniped, turning back to the mirror.

"Like you'll even be around to tell the difference. You'll probably be too busy doing the Beyoncé booty dance in the middle dance floor."

Casey just stared at him, before glaring and spritzing him with the cologne.

"_Hey_."

"Oops."

She smiled innocently back at him and he glowered. He was still for a moment, before quickly reaching for his spicy cologne and spraying it on her.

"_Derek!_"

She growled and sprayed him with her citrus perfume.

"_Ah_; I can't go to a party already smelling like another girl."

"Oh, and like your Old Spice knockoff is really going to help me out." They were glaring at each other when Casey's cell phone went off, buzzing on the ledge of the sink. Derek grasped it before she could and she crossed her arms as he read the screen. "It's Emily," he announced.

"Thanks," she bit out sarcastically, grabbing it from him, "It's so nice having you around to invade my privacy. You're like the lame phone accessory I always wanted."

Derek just rolled her eyes as he answered it. "Hey…yeah, I know I'm so…what? Oh…ugh, you're kidding me? No, no, that's okay I guess…see you later."

"What was that about?" Derek asked, spiking his hair.

"The party's canceled."

"_What?_"

"Apparently Sheldon decided it would be a smart idea to warn his neighbors that it might be a little noisy since there'd be teenagers and alcohol," Casey shook her head, disgusted, "His parents found out by nine."

Derek groaned. "Great. I should've known he couldn't have pulled this off."

"Well, what are we going to do now?"

"I dunno," Derek mumbled.

"Well, what do you usually do on Saturdays—since I wouldn't know?" Casey added with an annoyed look.

Derek just shrugged. "Drink a little, make out with Charlotte."

"Ah, right, of course. Charlotte. Have I mentioned how much I'm going to miss her now that you two broke up?"

"It's good to see you two bonded," Derek quipped.

"Oh, yeah, we braided each other's hair and spent hours going on and on about how great you were."

"Add some skimpy pajamas and a pillow fight and _just_ how I pictured it."

"Perv." Casey promptly struck the familiar spot on his shoulder; but Derek just smirked.

It was silent for a moment, before Derek muttered, "Hmm."

"What?"

"Nah, you wouldn't be up for it."

"How can you say that unless you tell me what you're thinking?"

"Fine. I was just gong to say that, even we don't have a party in our house, we _definitely_ have the alcohol."

tbc.

Definitely never met to end the chapter like this; but, it would just be way too long to fit into one part. Anyway, thanks again for your patience and I should have the next part out in a couple of days.


	19. Chapter 18

Note 1: Okay, at this point I've decided to stop trying to guesstimate when the next parts will be out. My schedule has been so crazy lately it's hard to predict. Either way, once again I'm sorry for the incredible wait on this one and will try to get the next parts out as time permits. Thanks for the feedback. You guys are ridiculously awesome. ;)

Note 2: I really struggled with this part and wasn't entirely thrilled with the output; but alas the show must go on. Hope you guys enjoy it anyhow.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

_It was silent for a moment, before Derek muttered, "Hmm."_

_"What?"_

_"Nah, you wouldn't be up for it."_

_"How can you say that unless you tell me what you're thinking?"_

_"Fine. I was just gong to say that, even we don't have a party in our house, we __definitely have the alcohol."_

_I _

"Derek, do I look like Maggy McKegs a lot to you?"

"Well, that depends: is this Maggy gal an uptight brunette who needs to relax?"

"I don't know," Casey challenged, bristling, "Why don't we ask Assy Mc…Asserson?"

"Or, better yet, why don't we use real English?"

Derek offered a casual shrug, lopsided grin in tact; but Casey just glared back at him.

"You're such a…big…meany...jerk man...guy." When Derek replied with an amused snort, Casey set her hands on her hips, "And, what exactly is so funny?"

"You," Derek said bluntly, "You're cute when you're incomprehensible."

"Okay, first of all, I am not _cute_; I'm adorable," she amended indignantly, "And, secondly, I'm going to my room."

"Casey McDonald's 'going to her room';" Derek waved his hands with manufactured excitement, "wait til the tabloids get a hold of this."

"Oh, and _read all about it_," came her retort as she spun back around to face him, "Derek Venturi wants to get drunk and act like an ass."

"More like, _breaking news_; Casey's being a high maintenance prude."

Frustrated and out of news jargon, she snapped, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're angry because we don't go out on Saturdays together, and here I am, trying to spend a Saturday with you, and you shoot me down."

"Getting wasted and stumbling all over myself with my lameass stepbrother hardly qualifies as 'going out'."

"Going out in the _figurative_ sense."

"How about me hitting you in the literal sense?"

Casey moved to strike him, but Derek instantly caught her right arm. His grin was a bemused one as he pulled her towards him. "Someone's frisky today. Kinda like a cat," he smirked, "…should I get that catsuit now or wait for later?"

"You should wait for _never,_ since that's only time you're going to see me in it."

"Whoa whoa whoa, let's not be hasty… let's down a few shots and then see how you feel about it."

"Derek!" Casey instantly disentangled herself and planted a firm slap on his bicep, "See; that's exactly why I'm not drinking with you."

"_No_, you're not drinking with me because you're a fun ruiner; a fuiner."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Of course not," Derek reasoned, "Only fun people can understand it."

Casey's lips instantly thinned, arms folding. "So, you're saying I'm not fun then?"

"What part of fuiner are you not getting?"

Casey huffed and stared disbelieving at him for a long moment. "You're an idiot…a Didiot."

"So, is that a yes or no to the drunken debauchery?"

"I'll give you a hint. My answer starts with a 'no' and ends with a 'you dumbass.'"

"Ah, wait I know this one," Derek motioned as if hitting a game buzzer, "I'll take refusals from a priggish Canadian for 200, Alex."

"I am not priggish…" Casey jabbed her index finger into his chest, "I'm not boring and I am _not_ uptight. I am the _best _fun you've ever had!"

Derek's brows shot up. "Okay, that was…'persuasive'; But, um, I'm gonna stick with my original answer."

"Ugh," Casey sighed dramatically and grabbed his right hand, "_Fine_. Let's go be Didiots."

"Sweet."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Truth or drink?" Casey said slowly, brow arching skeptically.

Derek nodded as he set the drinks before them on the coffee table. "That's what they call it."

"Well, it sounds stupid."

"It's a drinking a game; it's supposed to be stupid."

"Fine," Casey let her head fall tiredly against her right hand, "How do you play then?"

"Simple: You get asked a question and you can either answer it truthfully or-"

"Phone a friend?" Casey quipped.

"…take a drink." Derek finished, lips quirking.

"Couldn't you just answer every question honestly?"

"You could," he conceded, "But, I don't think you'll want to. Plus, if you answer the other person has to take a drink…just to keep things interesting."

"Interesting's a word for it," Casey mumbled.

Derek sighed. "Are you gonna play or not?"

"Fine, you big baby," Casey rolled her eyes, "But, you owe me a puzzle. And, not one of the kiddie one's either."

"_Fine_. We'll do a puzzle next Friday; happy?" After Casey nodded tersely, he continued, "You can go first."

Casey glanced to the side and considered for a moment, fingernails tapping lazily, "Okay," she finally began, "Why did you really beat up Toby?"

"You're kidding me right?" Off Casey's persistent look he continued, his voice coloring with anger as he leaned over the island, "He was a creep who spread rumors about sleeping with you. He should be happy I didn't impale him with a hockey stick…_after_ I pummeled him with it."

"Okay, first off, _eww_; second, thank you; and third, you're cheating."

"How am I cheating?"

"You're supposed to answer honestly."

"I _am_ being honest."

"So Toby spreading rumors about me was the _only_ reason you wanted to beat him up?"

"Should there be another one?" he answered obliquely, gaze averting her for a moment.

"I think there is and I think someone's a liar, liar... pants on fire."

"And I think someone's ridiculous," Derek mumbled reluctantly before taking two sips from his drink. Casey smirked, but Derek quickly tempered it with, "And, speaking of pants on fire, are you a virgin?"

Red exploded on Casey's cheeks. "_Derek!_"

"I'm sorry, was that 'below the belt'?"

"Like I'd _ever_ let you get below my belt."

"I wouldn't mind being above it too much either."

Casey's face pinched in agitation for a moment before she took a drink. When she finished she questioned him gamely, "Best kiss."

"Tongue or no tongue?" he replied breezily.

"Do you even _know_ how to kiss without it?" Casey sniped.

"I don't recall there being any complaints when I used it on you."

"That's because you'd have to able to hear them over your roaring ego."

"Which ironically was drowned out by the sounds of you begging and pleading..."

"...that you'd stop?"

Derek chuckled, head nodding slightly as he leaned back. "That's cute. But methinks the Casey protests too much."

"And she-thinks the Derek tongueth too much."

"Only with the girls I really like," he said with a wink.

He reached for his beer, but Casey's hand promptly covered his, smirking, "I think you already answered my question, hon."

Her fingers gingerly untangled his grip on the cup before helping herself to a swig.

"Someone's abruptly psychic," Derek mumbled, watching her intently as she swallowed.

"No, you're just obvious. Seriously, for a 'bad boy', you're pretty predictable."

"And, what? Like you're not an open book with transparent pages?"

Casey's forehead crinkled in thought. "Would that even be readable?"

"Maybe not. But you _definitely_ are."

"Oh, really?" Casey questioned, eyes lighting with challenge, "Let's see you put your liquor where your mouth is."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Favorite color?"

"Sapphire blue—though you don't know it's called that. Mine?"

"Prissy pink."

"Favorite food?"

"Grilled salmon, although you don't get to have it much, which is why you're so picky about everything else. Mine?"

"Anything."

"That'd be correct."

"Favorite movie?"

"Pride and Prejudice: the _six hour_ British version. I should know; you've made me watch it twenty times."

"Like I couldn't recite every word and _sound _from Universe of Galactic Explosions 7?"

"It's genius—most embarrassing memory?"

"Fifth grade when Suzie Jenkins pantsed you on the rink. Mine?"

"The entire first grade when you had to wear those special shoes for your walking problem."

"Impressive. Favorite smell?"

"Right after it rains. Mine?"

"Fruity things, just not on you."

"Favorite hockey player?"

"Gretzky…post Oilers. Mine?"

"Me."

"Pfft." Casey smiled and rolled her eyes, but didn't correct him. For a while then they just stared at each other, both momentarily stumped. Casey glanced down for a moment, considering, before looking back up, "Best friend?"

"Are even you trying anymore?"

"Just answer."

"_Fine_," he sighed, "Emily. Mi-"

"Wrong; I win. Drink up."

Derek squinted. "I'm sorry, I could have sworn I was talking to Casey McDonald; but, apparently this is her sassy doppelganger."

"Emily's not my only best friend; not anymore. Unfortunately, there's… kind of you."

Derek's back straightened, blinking and Casey smiled a little uncomfortably before replying. "Yeah, that's, uh, sorta why I asked you that. I figured you wouldn't get it, you being slow on the uptake n' all."

Derek just continued to stare blankly at her, before finally saying, "I'm not drinking for that."

"Why not?"

"Because we are _not _best friends."

"We are _so_ best friends."

"Since when?"

"Oh come on, Derek. We live together, eat together, study together, hangout together, fight together, _breathe _together. I mean, we're either best friends or we're…" she trailed off when Derek's eyes darted up to hers, "…not best friends," she fumbled, "But, we _are."_

"Fine, let's settle this in a reasonable manner," Derek reasoned, "Rock paper scissors."

Casey was the picture of indignance. "I am not rock-paper-scissoring for your friendship."

Derek simply shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

Casey huffed. "Fine."

Their fists shook three times along with the familiar chant before they both formed rocks. Frowning, they tried again, both forming scissors. When they both chose rocks on the third try, Derek finally groaned, conceding, "Fine, so maybe we're slightly attached at the hip..."

"_Thank you_."

"But, we are _not_ best friends. I don't…I can't think of you that way."

"Then what way can you think of me?"

"I dunno…an annoying, neurotic—but bizarrely enjoyable_...thing_," Derek used his hands to make a series of obscure gestures, "A-a…frichasey," he concluded.

"A Frichasey?"

"Yeah, you know: part friend, part chick, part Casey."

"Is that…" Casey squinted, "A compliment?"

"Well, I don't know if it's a compliment exactly, but... I like_ whatever_ freakish thing you are."

Casey smiled, the corners of her lips quirking unconsciously. "And, I like that you're a Didiot…minus the idiot."

"That's just leaves Derek."

"No, technically that leaves the letter D."

"_No,_ technically, you're the biggest keener I know."

"Well, do you like that part, too?"

Probably the cutest, quirkiest smirk formed on Derek's lips and Casey smiled back at his silent admission.

"Okay," Casey said, "_That_ was adorable."

"Don't call me adorable."

"Then don't be adorable."

"I am _never_ adorable," Off Casey's teasing look, he continued, "I'm not!" When Casey continued to grin at him, Derek sighed and waived it off, "Never mind. Let's stop talking and start drinking."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Typical."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"_Go_!"

Derek and Casey reached for beers as a car exploded on the t.v. screen.

"_Go!_"

"I don't have glaucoma," Casey said, rolling her eyes, "I can see when something's exploding. What I can't see, is why we're watching this."

"To enrich our appreciation of fine cinema," Derek deadpanned, "To get drunk, Spacey."

"Well," she shrugged,"Drunk is pretty much the only way I could sit through this again."

"Yeah, yeah, yada yada--go!" 

_IIIIIII_

"Do you have a seven?"

"Nopedy nope nope; drink up," Casey chirped as she wiggled around atop the stool.

Derek shook his head, pushing away his drink, "You're cheating."

"Prove it!"

"I can see your cards; you're holding them the wrong way."

Casey huffed and slammed her cards on the table. "No _wonder_ you keep winning."

"Like you weren't cheating in poker. Six Aces isn't even a real hand."

"Prove it!"

"Enough!" Derek stood dramatically from the kitchen island, "No more card games."

"Oooh, oooh, I have another game," Casey said, jumping from her stool. "It's called 'let's drink more.'"

Derek titled his head. "Sounds complicated, but I'm in."

_IIIIIII_

_"...oops, I did it again. I played with your heaaaart; got lost in the game. Oh, baby baby--"_

_"_Okay, um, I think you've had enough."

"I'll tell you when I've had enough!" Casey stumbled then, almost tumbling to the ground as Derek caught her, "Okay, I've had enough."

"No, really?"

Derek grunted a little as he lifted her up in his arms, and she squeaked as her feet left the floor. "I'm in the air," she cried, "Why am in the air?"

"I'm taking you to your room before you collapse and take the house down with you."

"Awww, you're so sweeet!" Casey sung. She reached up to pinch Derek's right cheek and he grimaced, "My ass in shinning armor!"

"I do what I can," Derek said dryly.

"This is totally romantic," Casey rambled on, "Like a Lifetime movie."

"No, if this were a Lifetime movie, you'd have leukemia."

"Yeah, but you'd still carry me up the stairs," she contested, "With this pretty music playing in the background."

Derek quirked a wary brow. "Um, Case, I don't know how to I put this, but… there is no music."

"Not _real_ music silly," Casey corrected, tapping his nose with her finger, "The music of our hearts."

Derek snorted. "Okay, I'm definitely cutting you off now."

But, Casey just smiled dreamily up at him as they reached the top of the steps. "You make mine go thumpedy thump."

"Similar to the sound of you falling down a flight of stairs."

"I'm serious." Derek's brows furrowed as her drunken hand reached up to grasp his chin, tilting it to look at her.

"I _really _like you. Like ridiculously like you. Like can't stop thinking about you even though you drive me up the wall insane like you!" her voice rose dramatically as she spoke, arms flailing around.

"You're really drunk," Derek muttered quietly, frozen.

"I know; that's the _only _reason I'd tell you this." She leaned up a little and whispered conspiratorially, "You might not know this, but I can be a bit uptight about these types of things."

" _No_?" Derek said blankly. "Anything else I should know before you're sober," he questioned, eyes wide and brows cocked as he regarded her, "Deep dark secrets; treasure locations; hidden superpowe--mph."

He was cut off as her lips latched on to his, a deep, driven lip lock as her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling his head down and into the kiss. Derek moaned, stumbling forward a few steps before finally regaining his balance as she pulled away.

"I wanna do that every time I see you," she breathed, lips inches from his.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah...too bad I can't trust you," she shrugged, "Wanna have sex now?"

"Okay—I mean no--wait, what? You don't you trust me?"

"Less talk, more kissy."

Derek sighed and pulled back as Casey tried to plant her lips on his again. "Figures; the _one_ time I'm practically begging you to give me some rambling, over detailed rant about your feelings, you're wasted."

"I am not wasted. I'm just…acutely inebriated...and suddenly really tired—ahm umph—Spacey wanna go sleepy now."

Derek was silent and scowling as he carried Casey across her room and to the foot of her bed. His knees bent and he gingerly lay her there.

"Mmm, warm," Casey muttered into her pillow.

Derek watched a moment, hand in her hair, before whispering, "You know you can trust me right, Case?"

"Yup," he smiled slightly, "Sure thing, Mr. Ducky."

Derek squinted. "Who's Mr. Ducky?"

"A duck, silly."

"Of course."

Derek just sighed, miffed, before pulling the blanket over her, standing, and stalking out of her room.


	20. Chapter 19

Note: Hopefully this begins to make up for my numerous hiatuses. Anyway, I'm trying to get parts out while I still have some free time. Thanks for the encouragement! It's one of the best parts of writing fanfic.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"_Oooooooh," _Casey groaned as her eyes fluttered open, "Why are there people hammering in my head?"

"Must be the hangover elves," Derek said, suddenly—at least from Casey's impaired perspective—sitting on the edge of her mattress.

"I don't like elves," she grumbled.

"Or dwarves, I know."

Casey's face twisted in discomfort as she rolled over to catch Derek's gaze. "Why, um," she moaned a bit, "Why are you in my bed?"

"I'm not in; I'm on, _on_," Derek corrected instantly, "And, I was just making sure you were alright."

"Okayyy, that answers my first question. Now, why don't I remember anything past 10 o'clock?"

"The elves are known to take your memories, too."

"Those _bastards_," Casey muttered, lips quirking in the closet thing to a smile she'd had since she'd awoken.

Derek returned it. "Yeah, I've had a few run-ins with them myself."

"I'll bet."

Derek stared at his thumbs for a moment, before asking, "But, you don't remember _anything_?"

"Unh, aside from massive amounts of alcohol and a…_bizarre _game of Go-Fish, not much."

Derek frowned. "Oh."

"Oh, god!" he started as Casey suddenly sat upright, "The house; it's a mess. And, mom and George should be back in like…" her eyes darted to the alarm clock, "_now_. I-I have to get up."

"Okay, okay; hold up, Sparky," he grasped her shoulder, firmly, but gently keeping holding her down, "I already cleaned everything up…well, all the new mess anyway."

"Really?" Casey questioned, forehead crinkling.

"Yeah, really."

Casey glanced around, "Is this a dream? Am I being Punked? Because I would have bet my left leg and a bag chips that you'd leave me with the cleanup."

Her eyes were pinning him teasingly, but Derek's gaze averted hers. "You know I wouldn't do that."

"Of course; because it's so _un_Derek-like to leave me with the mess."

He sighed, brows furrowing as he muttered, "Right."

"Why do you look like that?" she questioned instantly.

He looked up to find Casey staring at him, her eyes clearer now as she studied him.

"Like what?"

"I don't know—all weird and…" she paused, lips thinning into a frown, "…mopey or something."

"It's nothing."

"You sure?"

A soft hand reached to rest on his forearm, but he instantly shifted from her. Casey frowned at the gesture.

"I'm fine."

"Der-"

"You should drink this," he interjected, lifting a mug from her dresser, "It'll help with the headache."

Casey was wary, yet also in enough pain to take him up on the offer. "Thanks," she muttered, bringing the mug up to her lips. She sighed, smiling a bit whimsically as she set it back down on her dresser, "I bet you're pretty familiar with hangover remedies, huh…?"

"Uhm, well…"

"…what with all that wild party romping you're always going on about."

"It's not _romping_, exactly. More like swaying or—or bopping or…"

When Casey simply sent him a quizzical glance, he promptly trailed off.

"Never mind. Uh…do you need anything else? Anything at all?" he asked earnestly.

Casey's maintained her curious smile. "Thanks, but it's just a hangover. It's not like I have leukemia. Or, wait," she said, eyes widening with false concern, "maybe I do?"

"Leukemia? You-you-"

"Relax. It was a joke. You remember jokes, right?"

"Right," he looked down for a moment before asking, "And, you're sure you don't remember anything from last night?"

"Noooo," Casey replied slowly, eyes narrowing suspiciously, "….I didn't…I didn't _do _anything or-?"

"No. _No_. I wouldn't let things get that out of hand."

"This from the man who was showering me with shots," she mumbled.

"No, but I wouldn't—I-I mean—I-nev-neve-I…I um uh…"

Casey interrupted him with a firm hand on his forehead. "Okay, you don't feel warm..." Derek's face scrunched as Casey climbed to her knees on the mattress and proceeded to inspect his scalp, "And I don't feel any knots," Casey frowned as she pulled back to look at him, "What's wrong with you?"

"There's nothing _wrong_ with me," Derek grumbled.

"Then when what's the alien pod act?"

"I'm not _acting _like an alien pod; I'm acting like myself!"

Casey flinched as he stood from her bed, glowering. "You don't have to yell at me."

"I'm not yelling!"

"Okay, um," Casey sighed, rubbing her temples with her index fingers, "As much I'd love to continue this joy ride down creepy lane; I sort have a headache and I really can't deal with you spazzing at me right now."

Derek's steely countenance lasted only a second longer. "I'm sorry-"

"You're…you're sorry?"

"Yeah," he replied softly.

Casey stared blankly at him for a long moment before ordering. "You to need go. Now."

"Wait, what? Why?"

"Because I don't feel well and you're weirding me out."

"I'm sor-"

"Nope. Don't say it. Just leave…_please_."

Derek was silent as he left her room, the door shutting behind him.

"Elves," she called, looking around the room, "You can wake me up any time now."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Casey, you're up late."

Casey offered a tight smile as she met her mom in the kitchen. "Yeah, I, um, wasn't feeling too well."

"Really, sweetie? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just felt a little nauseous. I think it was something I ate….or drank," she muttered wryly.

"Oh, well was Emily's fun, at least?"

"Yeah; a total total….blast—but hey enough about _me_--how was your romantic getaway?"

"A-mazing," Nora beamed, "I think it's the first time George and I have been alone together without having to worry about parties or drunken teenagers."

"Right, cause how annoying and totally irresponsible would that be?" Casey said, laughing nervously, "I'm just gonna g-"

But, she was cut off as she turned and collided into Derek's solid form. "…umph."

"Sorry; you okay?"

Casey nodded, grimacing slightly, "Yeah, just another attack of the klutzilla, right, Derek?"

"You're—you're not exactly a-a…klutz; just…standingly challenged."

"Speaking of challenged, what is up with you today?"

"What do you mean?" Derek watched anxiously as Casey gave him the once over.

"You're wearing khaki's, your hair's gelled back, and-" Casey's eyes widened in disbelief, "You actually smell good."

"Well, I-"

"Are you getting back together with Kendra again?" Casey demanded, gaze sharp.

"_No_."

"Oh, so what is it, Charlotte then?"

"No, I-"

"Unh, you make me sick…er!" Casey called as she stormed out of the kitchen.

"But, I…" Derek just groaned as he her heard feet thudding up the stairs.

"Well, it's good to know you and Casey are still getting along," Nora deadpanned.

"Yeah, we've really…_grown_ over these last three years."

"Riiight."

Derek just smiled tersely before shoving an muffin in his mouth.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…I'm serious this time though. If Sheldon does _one_ more puppet show in the hallway, we're through."

"But, you guys are back together then?"

"Yeah," Emily grinned ridiculously as she and Casey stopped by their lockers, "He sung me with this rock ballad outside my window last night—and even though he almost got arrested—it was totally romantic."

Casey sighed and opened her locker. "Yeah, well apparently you're not the only two lovebirds being reunited."

"Come again?"

"Derek's trying to get back together with Kendra _and / or _Charlotte."

"No, he's not."

Casey's brows furrowed. "He isn't?"

"_Definitely _not; I don't even need my notebook for this one. Two months ago, Derek completely ignored Kendra when she said 'hi' in the cafeteria to which she proceeded to give him the Kendra snub the next day in history—total kiss of death. And Charlotte randomly broke out in hives in Chem last week, so I guessing that's no go as well."

"Oh," Casey frowned, "Then what's going on with him?"

"What do you mean? According to my stats there haven't been any social disturbances since he pummeled Toby."

Casey sighed. "I don't know; he's just been acting…off."

As if on cue Derek, appeared at the end of the corridor and instantly approached the duo.

"Hello, ladies."

"Ladies?" Casey repeated skeptically, "What no freakette, reject, or keener reference?"

"I don't _always_ do that at school."

""Yes, you do,"" Casey and Emily said simultaneously.

"Oh," he faltered for a moment, "Well, it's getting a little old, don't ya think?"

"It was old two years ago, but you're Derek: since when has that stopped you?"

"Um…today?" he tired.

"Nice slacks," Emily interjected, "A little preppy for you, but I can see it."

"Thanks," Derek murmured. He glanced at Casey but she was busy rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're newest cheerleader will love the new look."

"It's not _for_ a cheerleader," Derek said a bit testily.

"Oh, excuse me then, you're new cheerleader_**s**_."

Derek huffed, about to retort when they were interrupted by a perky junior…who just happened to be blonde. Derek could feel Casey glaring holes into his neck.

"Hey, Derek. You look awesome today," Chrissy said.

Derek panicked, eyes instantly shooting to the ceiling tiles. "Um, thanks."

"Okayy," Chrissy frowned, confused by his lack of eye contact, "Wanna meet up in study hall sometime?"

"I'd love to but, um, I…really should keep up with my studies."

"Right," Chrissy rolled her eyes as she started walking off, "Have fun with that."

When she was finally out of eyesight, Derek sighed dramatically and looked proudly back up at Casey. "Did you see that?"

"You mean you reaching new lows in social etiquette?" Emily answered for her, "Yes; we noticed."

"Yeah, and since when do you not cling to blondes like white on rice?"

"I don't cling; I just…notice."

Casey just squinted at him as the school bell rang throughout the corridor.

"I…have to get to class," Casey mumbled, continuing to eye him suspiciously as she started down the hall.

"Want me to walk you?"

"Um, um no, no, that's okay. Catch you later."

Derek waved after her. "Have a wonderful afternoon."

_IIIII_

"Sweet!" Edwin grinned as he spotted a candy bar lying in the middle of the upstairs hallway. When he spotted another one and yet another a few feet in front it he eagerly collected them, "What is this, my lucky…" he heard a door close behind him, "…day?"

When he turned to see Lizzie blocking the door, it only took him a moment longer to realize he was in Casey's room, "Ah, man. Not again."

"I think you know why you're here," Casey began, bringing his attention back to the older sister.

"Um…chocolate?"

Casey crossed her arms. "What's going on with Derek?"

"Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"

"He's been acting beyond freakish lately and I wanna know what's wrong with him. _Now."_

"Okay," Edwin held up two defensive hands as Casey approached him, "If you're trying to intimidate me, it's working. If you're trying to make sense…not so much."

Lizzie sighed. "So you don't know either?"

"Well…" Edwin took a moment to consider, "He gave me a wedgie on Sunday…cheated me out of twenty bucks today…" he shrugged, "Yeah, nothing I can tell."

"_Ugh_," Casey growled, "This is driving me crazy. No, correction, _he's_ driving me crazy."

"And this is different from usual, how exactly?" Lizzie questioned.

"I don't know, it's just…kookier than ever. And I…_ah_!"

The three of them covered their ears as loud rock music began blaring throughout the house. "_Derek!"_ Casey sighed and looked back at Lizzie and Edwin, "I'll be back."

Lizzie and Edwin just shrugged at each other before walking back to their rooms.

"Derek!" Casey cried, knocking on his door, "_Derek!_"

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, smirking as he opened his bedroom door.

"You can help my ear drums by turning down your stupid music."

"And you could help mine by not talking," he shrugged, "But, neither of us are going to do either of those things, are we?"

Casey gasped, mouth hanging open. "_What_ is your damage?"

"Seen a mirror lately?"

"Unh!" Casey growled and shoved past him, marching across his room and shutting of his stereo. He opened his mouth to retort when she instructed, "Close the door."

"Excuse me?"

"I said close the door...before I do."

Derek glowered at her a moment, before silently acquiescing. "Anything else you'd like, Queen Spacey?"

"Yeah; I'd like to know why you're suddenly acting like such a jerk."

Derek shrugged. "Well, apparently you prefer me to be an ass, so I thought—I dunno, what the heck—I'll be an ass."

"First of all, that makes no sense. And, second, since when do you care what I'd prefer you to be? I thought it was kind of your thing to do exactly the opposite."

Derek let out a mirthless chuckle. "Oh, and is it your thing to tare me down _every little_ chance you get?"

"Well, it's usually a little bit more give-and-take; not pout and keel over. So excuse me if I'm having a little trouble adjusting to your psychological lobotomy."

Derek sighed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I was trying to be _better_, okay? But I guess there is no better with you, is there? Just more room for petty criticism."

"What do mean, 'better'?" Casey's brows scrunched in exasperation, "Why in the world would you need to be better?" She tilted her head slightly, "Now cleaner, I could see; but, better?"

"You said you don't trust me."

"No, I didn't it."

"_Yes_, you did."

"Derek, I think I'd remember saying something like-"

"When you were drunk."

Casey deflated slightly. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'."

"Well…obviously I didn't mean it," she sputtered, "I mean, like you said, I was ridiculously drunk."

"So you do trust me?"

"…of course."

Derek's back stiffened instantly. "Why'd you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate. I…paused."

"_Casey-_"

"Okay, so maybe I had to think about it."

"Well, why'd you have to think about it?"

"I don't _know_; okay; I just did."

"Because you don't trust me," Derek concluded, muttering.

"That's not true."

Derek just continued to shake his head. "You're lying."

"How could you even know that?"

"Because I know you and I know when you're lying—which you suck at, by the way."

Casey huffed. "Okay, well, fine; if you know what I'm thinking and feeling so well, why don't I just leave so you can have this conversation with yourself?"

She was on her way past him and to the door when Derek caught her, forcing her to face him.

"Because I don't want to be _myself; _I want to work this out."

"What do you want me to say, Derek?"

"That you trust me."

"I already _did_."

"Well, meaning it, too, would be great, thanks."

"I _did_."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I _did_."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I-" Casey stopped, fuming as she glared back at him. "You know what, Der? Why don't we rock-paper-scissor for it? You like that, right? Mine's _rock_," she sniped, punching him squarely in the shoulder.

"Paper," Derek returned, shoving hers.

"Scissors!" Casey cried, grabbing him by the neck and into a viscous headlock.

"Why can't you trust me?" Derek grunted as they stumbled around in a circle.

"Why can't you trust _me_ when I say I do?"

"Because you're lying."

"I am not lying, not about this."

"Yes. You. Are."

They grappled for a few moments, Casey finally gaining control and throwing her weight against him to knock him to floor.

"Okay, so I'll admit it," she said, as they tumbled around his room.

"_I knew it_."

"At first I had trouble trusting you because you were—umph—a schemer and a--oh--playboy; and because of the small tiny insignificant fact that you spent the first year you knew me making my life a living hell. Not to mention you go through girls like a can Pringles."

"No, I do not," Derek protested, rolling on top of her.

"Yes. You. Do."

Casey smacked his back and shoulders until he gave and she rolled back on top.

"But, that's not even point," she went on as they continued their struggle, "I know that you've changed—_ah—_for the most part; and the fact you made a complete _idiot_ out of yourself just to impress me is sort of winning me over."

"So what's taking so long?" he demanded, prying her hands from where they were tugging at his hair.

"It's a process!"

"Everything's a process with you."

"And, everything's a race with you."

"Why," he challenged, "Because I'm actually trying to get somewhere?"

"Like you even know what you wanna get."

"I know _exactly_ what I wanna get. So say you trust me."

"I already _did_."

"Say it again."

"Listen, you idiot," Casey snapped, smacking him upside the head, "I _trust_ you, okay?" she hit him again for good measure, "Okay? Even though you're _really_ starting make me regret it here."

They looked at each other then, panting, before finally collapsing on the ground beside each other.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

"Dumbass."

Casey huffed and struck him again. But, Derek just laid there with stupid grin on his face.


	21. Chapter 20

Note: I'm really flattered—as always—by all your reviews. With reviewers like you my socks are continually rocked. Thanks so much!

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Okay, right over there…no, no wait….there…or maybe here? No, that won't wor"-

"_Casey_!"

"Oh, oh, sorry, sorry; just leave it there for now. I can't decide."

Derek gasped as he released Casey's dresser, a sharp thud sounding throughout the room. "Would it have _killed_ you to have known that five minutes ago?"

"I'm sorry; I'm sorry," Casey said again, her voice rising in an apologetic voice, "I know I've been driving you crazy with this whole reorganizing thing; but I couldn't do it by myself…"

"Oh, really?" Derek asked, arms crossing.

"Yeah, I mean, there are all these heavy things to carry and…I really need a big, _strong_ man to help me with them."

Derek sighed, the corners of his lips rising reluctantly as he looked back at her. "See, I know you're playing me here, and yet, strangely…I'm still falling for it."

"It's all in the delivery," Casey said, smiling as she patted his left bicep, "Stud."

"One day that's not gonna work."

"Probably 'round the same day you stop staring at my ass."

"Does that mean I'm allowed to now?" Off Casey's glower he muttered, "I'll take that as a no."

She sighed, shrugging as she glanced around the room, "Anyway, you can probably leave now if you want. It's gonna take me a while to figure this all out."

"Why don't you just take a break?" Derek said, his hand rubbing her shoulder in a coaxing gesture.

Casey smirked as her eyes met his pleading gaze. "Aww, 'Derry' gonna miss me while I'm busy?"

"About as much I'm gonna miss lifting your five ton dresser."

"Oh, you must have really enjoyed it then."

"Yeah. Behind those tears of pain…? Were tears of joy," he tilted his head, "_Annd _a little more pain."

"_Manly_ pain," Casey emphasized.

"Yes, manly pain," Derek boomed in his deepest voice, "Now, manly man take Spacely Casey out of room for funly fun."

Casey squeaked as Derek grabbed her from behind, arms wrapping around her waist, and lifting her off her feet as he shuffled to the door.

"Ah, _Derek_, stop; I mean it."

Derek sighed, but promptly relented, setting her back on the ground.

"I really wanna fix this room. It's gonna drive me _crazy_ 'til I do," His mouth opened and Casey held up a firm finger, "And, no jokes about my present mental state."

"Yeah, it would have been too easy anyway."

She quipped, "I thought 'easy' was your thing?"

"Nah, I don't like easy anymore. Now, I _much_ prefer 'angsty, dramatic, complicated'," he cried, the last words a song.

"Yeah, and I just have this _total _craving for airhead athletes."

"And, by that I'm sure you're referring to Franky over there?"

Casey rolled her eyes as Derek gestured to her poster of a famous danseur. "For the fifteenth time, it's Francois, and you know that," Derek just pulled a disinterested face as Casey eye's softened at the poster, "And, he's coming _here_ to perform in Giselle. Oh, I could just die!"

"And, I could just hurl…Look, why don't you just go the lame concert thing and spare us both the agony?"

"Sure, Derek," Casey began sarcastically, "And, why don't you just shell out those 100 dollars I need and I'll get right on that."

"Pffft. Even if I lost _all_ my mental capacities and decided to do that, I don't have the money to spare. I'm still working on getting those hockey tickets, remember?"

"Yeah, well I guess we're both out of luck," Casey sighed, willing her eyes from the poster.

"No, _you're_ out of luck. Because unlike me, you have all those pesky ethics and morals to keep you from getting the dough."

"Yeah, how unlucky of me to have principles."

"Not too to late to join in with me, you know," Derek offered, waggling his eyebrows, "We could both win?"

"As fun as another wacky-misadventure-promptly-followed-by-grounding sounds, I'll pass. Besides, I've got this disaster of a room to focus on."

Derek shrugged. "Your loss. Cause trust me, I have a _great _plan."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Hey, Dad, can I borrow your wallet for just oneteeny-_weensy_ second?"

"Sure, son."

"Re-realy?"

"Yeah, you'll just have to get it for me. It's in my coat next to the—never-no-way-not today-not tomorrow-_never_."

"And, by coat do you mean the brown suede one or the blue leather-?"

"_No_, Derek."

Derek groaned, desperately shadowing his father as he moved about the living room. "_Come on_, pops; I'm dying here. I just _have_ to have that ticket."

"Then maybe," George said, suddenly turning to face him, "You should have a job."

"A job?" Derek looked utterly affronted, "You don't know what you're saying; you must be faint."

"_NO_."

Derek sighed and finally let up as George marched towards his bedroom. Behind him, he heard a voice from the stairway.

"_Great _plan, Der. No, no, great doesn't even begin to describe it. It was amazing, really."

Derek eyes narrowed as he turned to see Casey walking smugly down the steps.

"Don't you have a room to be neuroticizing over?"

"That's not a word," Casey chirped.

"Oh, you just-"

"Casey, I've been meaning to talk you," George interrupted, abruptly reappearing in the living room, "Are you free this weekend?"

"Well-"

"Fantastic. We need someone to watch Marti Saturday. Ms. Pfeiffer cancelled."

"But, I-"

"We'd _really_ appreciate it," George finished with a pointed look.

"Fine," Casey muttered.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. Nora would kill me if she found out you'd already made plans since I forgot to ask 'til the last minute."

"Oh, then, how fortunate we are," came her dry reply.

"Great. Oh, and Derek?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"Still a no."

Derek huffed as George headed for his room again and Casey glared at him. "Right, because _your _life is so unfair," she griped, "At least you're not stuck on Marti patrol for the weekend. I mean seriously," she continued as she walked towards the kitchen, "If they paid me for every time I had to take care of Marti at the last minute, I could afford fifty tickets."

"Fifty tickets…" Derek repeated to himself, eyes brightening, "I'd settle for just one."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Case, you're off the hook: I've got Marti this weekend."

Casey muttered absently from where she was inspecting her lamp's positioning, "Great; thanks, hon."

"No, prob."

It only took her a second to snap out of it and stop Derek at her doorway, grabbing the back of his shirt. "Wait a minute," she said, pulling at the fabric and dragging him back into her room, "What are you up to?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're just—out of the goodness of your heart—taking Marti duty from me?"

"Yeah," Derek said with a shrug, "I realized that—shockingly—I was free this weekend and told dad I'd cover for you. You know, so you can focus on your room like you wanted."

"And if you also recall, I also wanted to avoid any shenanigans-followed by groundings," Casey reminded.

"I'm not up to anything; I'm shenanigan free."

"Riiight. How gullible do you think I am?"

Derek looked over her shoulder. "Gullible enough to think that rug actually goes with your comforter."

Casey's eyes bulged and she instantly turned to stare at her bed, Derek speaking quietly behind her. "Oh, wow, and is just me or is that poster like a _centimeter_ in the wrong direction?"

"Oh, god, it's not just you!" Casey cried, looking wildly about her room, "I've gotta fix this," she glanced quickly back at him, "We'll talk later."

Derek just smirked as he shut her door. "I'm sure we will."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Mmmhmmm. Five until eight? Sounds great. I'll you write you in. Thanks Bye." Derek hung up his cell phone only for it to ring the next moment, "Hello? Yes, you've heard right. Unh huh, unh huh….okay four until seven? Yeah, I can definitely do that. Take Care."

When Derek's cell rang again, he glanced at the monitor, frowning, before flipping it open. "Hello?"

"_I know you're up to something," _came Casey's harried voice, "_And as soon as I finish my room, I'll figure it out"—_click.

"Spacey," Derek muttered, shaking his head as he set down his phone.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Alright, have fun at the club meeting. Don't worry about us two crazy kids!" Derek waved, grinning innocently as Marti sat on his shoulders at the front door. As soon as George and Nora's car pulled off, Derek sighed and shut the door, "Phew. That was exhausting."

"Yeah, I can't smile anymore," Marti said as Derek set her down, "My face hurts."

"Well, we can't have that. How are you going to be so cute if your face is broken?" Marti smiled as he pinched her cheeks, "Okay, so you remember what I told you?"

"Yes: 'Go to Casey's room and mess everything up, Smarti!'"

"Perfect," they exchanged high fives, "Okay, I've got some business to take care of down here. But, when I'm done we can play a game and have some candy, alright?"

"Alright!" Marti cried.

"Great. Now go do your thing. But, don't forget to look cute so she won't get as mad, alright?"

"Got it."

Derek winked and set her off with a pat on the back, and Marti went bounding up the steps.

"_Casey! Wanna play a game?!"_

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

_Ding dong!_

Derek jumped from his recliner and rushed to the front door, charming smile in tact. "Hey, Charles, what's up?"

"Nothing, man. But, thanks _so_ much for taking Drake off my hands," the male said, gesturing to the five year old beside him, "I really can't miss this party."

"No, problem, man. What are friends for, huh?" He laughed jovially, before abruptly stopping, "But, seriously, where's the money?"

_II_

"Mary Matthews?!" Derek greeted as he opened the door, "Don't you look smashing? And, this pretty little thing next to you must be your little sister, Ashley?"

"Yeah, thanks, Der-"

"That'll be thirty bucks: cash, not check."

_II_

"Dave, buddy, pal, friend."

Derek exchanged a handshake with the student at the door.

"What up, D?"

"Nothin' much, nothin' much; just making that paper, you know how it is…Twins," Derek, said, crouching down to smile at Dave's two younger brothers, "That's so cute—but, you know that'll be double, right?"

_II_

"Piece. Of. Cake;" Derek said as he closed the door on his last client. He sighed as he counted the bills before taking a big whiff. "Ah, the smell of success."

"I like the smell of dirt."

Derek's brows furrowed as he turned to living room, where a small brunette, Ashley, was picking her nose.

"Oh, right. The actual babysitting part," he muttered.

"Are we gonna play a game?! Are we gonna play a game?! Cause I wanna play a game?! Are we gonna play a game?!" Drake screamed, twisting about on the couch.

"Um, yeah, games, games, let me think? Anyone like…counting Derek's money for him?"

""_No_!" came a chorus of replies.

"Right."

"I have to go to the bathroom!" Christopher, one of the twins called. His face turned sheepish as he finished, "Wait, never mind."

"Oh, _crap."_

_II_

"Marti, _Marti! _You _have_ to calm down!" Casey was crying frantically as Marti ran about her room. "_Please_!"

"No can do!" Marti sung, knocking a book off her desk.

"Oh, no. That was in the _perfect_ position."

"I'm sorry," Marti said, suddenly falling despondent on the ground, "I'm sorry I made you hate me. Please don't hate me."

"Oh, Marti," Casey melted as she walked over to younger girl, "I could never hate…" she heard a crash downstairs and her eyes narrowed, "_Derek!"_

_II_

"What is going on down here?!" Casey yelled, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets as she reached the bottom of the steps. Objects were strewn everywhere, the coffee table overturned, and kids running wild as she slowly stepped into living room.

"Casey," Derek said, a painful grin on his face as he appeared from behind the couch—where he'd fallen chasing one of the kids, "And to what do I owe this—_much_ _welcome_—visit from your room?"

"Oh my god, Derek! Who—or should I say _what—," _she corrected as she saw one of the kids gnawing at a chair leg, "Are these children?"

"They're uh, sorta of…mine for the night."

"_What?_"

"Derek's babysitting," Marti called from behind both of them, "Although, if you ask me, he's not very good at it," Marti turned and smiled triumphantly at Derek, "I did a great job of messing up Casey's room, though."

"Thanks, Marti," Derek said tightly as Casey glared at him.

"You…you…in the kitchen. _Now_," Casey ordered, marching past him.

"Thanks a lot, Smati," Derek grumbled.

"You're welcome!"

_II_

"Are you mental? I mean actually, certifiably mental?" Casey snapped as soon as he entered the kitchen.

"It's not what it looks likes."

"So there aren't half a dozen children destroying our house right now?"

"Okay," Derek said, cocking his head, "So it's exactly what it looks it like."

Casey huffed. "I can't believe this. I can't believe _you,_" she seethed, "What were you thinking?"

"That I'd make a _butt_ load of money babysitting all these kids at once."

"So let me get this straight. You decided that babysitting Marti was too much too handle; but, that taking in six other children, on the other hand—while _still _not babysitting Marti—was perfectly manageable?"

"See, when you put it like that, it just sounds irresponsible."

"Do I _look_ like I'm in a playful mood right now?"

"No, you look very reasonably pissed off; but, you're not seeing the big picture."

Casey threw up her hands. "Oh, then please, O Wise One, enlighten me."

"I've got enough money for the ticket, right here," Derek said, grinning as he patted his breast pocket.

"Oh, great. I'm sure I'll just bask in the glow of sitting in the _ruins_ of my home while you enjoy your stupid hockey game," she spat.

"No, not that," Derek dismissed readily, "You're lameass fruity dancing thing."

"Wait—what?"

"You're-you're dance thing. Gi-gisteppo, or whatever. It was supposed to be a surprise," he sputtered, "But, um I guess the whole living room of doom and destruction makes up for that so…_surprise!_

"…"

A frown marred his features, "Don't you wanna go?"

"I…" Casey's face fell into blankness. Then confusion. And, then she growled, "Argh! This _so_ like you. _This_ is why you drive me insane."

"Um…what?"

"You wrap up doing something so gigantically reckless and idiotic with being unbearably sweet and thoughtful."

"_Hey,"_ Derek held his hands up, "I can't help it if I have layers."

"Yeah, and now I can't help it that we have six delinquent grade schoolers from hell!"

"You said 'we'," Derek said, suddenly hopping up and down like a three-year-old, "You said 'we'!"

"I'll help you. _This_ time. But, I swear the next time you start a covert babysitting ring without telling me…." She sighed, rolling her eyes and waving a tired hand, "ah…never mind."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"No, really, Dave; the pleasure was all ours. We'll have to do cards sometime. Take care now," Casey smiled winningly as Derek shut the front door.

When it closed, she collapsed to the ground, crying.

"Casey, are you alright?" Derek asked, kneeling beside her.

"I'm just so happy it's over!"

"Tell me about it," Derek sighed and took a seat beside her at the bottom of the stairs, "Who knew kids could be so…scary."

"And, hungry," Casey sniffed, drying her eyes, "I think we need new chair legs."

"And potpourri."

"I should be really mad at you. Like ridiculously, insanely mad at you," Casey rambled.

Derek cocked a brow and turned towards her. "You're…not?" he let out breathless chuckles, "I mean seriously, I'd kick my own ass right now."

"Then who would I go to the ballet with?" Casey asked, gaze tired but soft as she caught his.

"Still not me," Derek said, "I, uh, only have enough for one."

"Oh."

Casey frowned as Derek pulled out their earnings.

"I feel wrong taking this."

"No. It's for yo-"

"Okay, thanks!" Casey blushed sheepishly as he took it from him, "Sorry, I, um, really wanted to go."


	22. Chapter 21

Okay, guys. We're at the of the homestretch of the courtship phase. Thanks for hanging in with me. And, yes, as some of you have pointed out, I'm addicted to feedback (don't judge me! P) I guess that would make you guys my dealers?

Note 2: I noticed while writing—and especially after reading reviews—that the last part was ambiguous as to whether or not Derek really didn't have enough money for another ballet ticket or if he was just keeping some on the side. I actually kind of like the ambiguity, so feel free to interpret whichever way pleases you. But, it was my intention to have him mainly scheming for Casey's ballet ticket.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Where's my shirt?"

Casey sighed as Derek's groggy, shirtless form appeared behind her in the bathroom mirror.

"Do I look psychic to you?"

"No." He took a moment to regard her disheveled hair, "Just psychotic."

"Oh, right, and you're just spiffing first thing in the morning."

"Thanks for noticing."

She rolled her eyes at his reflection. "Which shirt are you even babbling about?"

"My old hockey jersey," he said, hands rubbing tired eyes, "Cotton, blue…" he trailed off when his gaze finally focused on her apparel, "…on you."

"That's very observant of you, Derek. Now can you tell me which is more? 3… or 2?"

"Cute," Derek muttered, "Now take it off."

"I'm sort of you using it right now, if you hadn't noticed."

"And, it's sort of mine…if you hadn't noticed."

"Well, this may be yours," Casey said, gesturing to the jersey, "But, what's under it, isn't."

"Wait, so does that mean I get to _see_ what's under it then?" Derek questioned, brows waggling.

"In your wildest, most unobtainable fantasies."

Derek laughed outright. "Don't I know it; but seriously, I need that jersey."

"Can't you just use another one?"

"I _could_," he conceded, "But, the team's doing some stupid 'throw-back' jersey day, and that's my favorite."

"Well, it's my favorite, too."

"Yeah, I can see that; but, it's still mine…"

"And, here we are, back in a circle again, because I already explained that whole 'yours' thing-"

"And, you're my girl," Derek finished, "So take it off."

Casey huffed. "I am not your girl. I am _nobody's _girl-"

"_Fine_. You're my personal pain in the ass then; whatever—just give it."

"_No_. And, seriously, do I look like a stripper to you?"

"Well, that depends," Derek said, smirking, "Will you take it off if I slip a dollar in your thong?"

"_Derek-"_

"Alright, alright, five dollars. But that's as high I'm going."

"Get. Out."

Her hands were on his back, pushing him out of the bathroom, when he spun and slipped from her reach. "Not until I get my jersey back."

"This is ridiculous. You won't even have enough time to wash and dry it before school."

"Who said anything about washing it?"

"Oh, sorry, for a moment I mistook you for someone with basic hygiene."

"I resent that," he said, pointing a disapproving finger, "And, I'm sure it smells fine anyway…fruity."

"Sure, because that's not creepy."

Derek shrugged. "Obviously you didn't mind smelling like me."

"I _always_ mind smelling like you."

"Yet, you still put it on," he observed.

"I washed this five times before wearing it...and then I soaked in Febreeze…and then I washed it again."

"You still put it on," he repeated, "And, I have a very potent scent."

"You say that is if everyone in this house wasn't painfully aware."

She reached for the hem of the jersey, but Derek instantly held up his hands. "Wait. You are…_wearing_ something under that, right?"

"No, Derek. I'm completely naked under your jersey," When his eyes widened, she sighed, "I was being sarcastic."

"Right," he cleared his throat, "Of course."

"Ugh," she groaned and pulled it over her head, revealing a tank and shorts. "Leave. Now."

The jersey was shoved firmly in his chest as Casey pushed out.

_IIIIIIIIIIIII_

"See," Derek greeted as Casey met him in the driveway an hour later, "This looks much better on me."

"Riiight. Because out of the two us, you're pretty one."

"Must be the hair," he said with a shrug.

"Pfft, please. My hair's flawless."

Casey offered a dramatic flip and Derek rolled his eyes, but didn't' argue as they headed for the car. When Derek automatically headed for the driver's seat, Casey protested.

"Why can't I ever drive?"

"Come on, Case; everyone knows women can't drive."

"Hysterical," she deadpanned.

"Besides, even _I _couldn't survive the social status sucker-punch of people seeing you drive me around."

"Of course," she began dryly, "But, seeing how many mini marshmallows you and Sam can shove up your nose at lunch…? Totally acceptable."

"Okay, first of all, admit it: that was awesome…"

"If awesome is French for outrageously violating and disgusting, sure."

"...but, even you have to admit that you're not exactly Empress of Popularity at school, here" Casey scowled, "I mean, seriously, if you weren't hot, I couldn't even afford to be seen with you."

"Good thing I am then, huh?"

She winked at him and Derek smiled, relenting. "You're totally getting these keys from me, aren't you?"

"Yup," Casey snatched the keys from his grasp, "Now come on; I won't even use the child seat this time."

"Oh, well, thanks a ton, _hon_," he mimicked in a high-pitched impression of her.

"No, prob, _babe_."

Derek smirked, and she returned it as they both entered the car. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot," he mumbled as he fished his pocket for a blue armband , "This is for you."

He tossed it across the car to her and she caught it. "Um…?"

"Well, since I'm keeping my jersey, I figured I'd give you a peace offering…it's official Oilers merchandise," he added when she still looked confused.

"I don't wear your jersey because I like the Oilers. In case you still haven't gotten it through your severely thick skull, I _don't like_ the Oilers."

"Then why do you wear it?"

"Because it makes me feel comfortable."

He snorted. "What a chick reason to wear a hockey jersey."

"I'm putting this on," Casey announced, dismissing his comment as she slipped it over her wrist, "But, I want that jersey back, too."

"Well, you can't have both."

"Why not?"

"Because _I'd_ like to keep some of my clothing if that's alright with you."

"You can keep some," Casey mumbled indignantly, "Just not the ones I want. Besides, this time you _clearly_ said that I could have it."

"As a _peace offering_."

"Well," she paused, thinking, "…no taksies backsies!"

Derek was stumped as he turned back to the road.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"This smells _amazing_."

Casey lips quirked instantly as Derek approached her locker, sniffing his jersey.

"I mean seriously, I just wanna like…_eat it_."

"Well, please, don't; because then neither of us can have it."

But, Derek was still enthralled by the fragrance. "Is there like a recipe or something for this?"

"Well, laundry detergent, for starters," she said pointedly, "Febreeze and-"

"Casey," he murmured almost unconsciously under his breath.

Casey flushed, yet he was oblivious as he finally looked back up at her.

"Anyway, this is yours."

Casey sent him a questioning look as he held out a red binder. "Alright," she said slowly, "And, why exactly do you have my Calc notebook?"

"How else would I copy your homework?"

"Derek-"

"Relax; I'm kidding. You left it in the car," he offered a bemused smile, "Trust me; I would never get between you and your studies."

"Thanks," she mumbled sheepishly.

"No prob."

He reached to unzip her messenger bag which hung low on her right hip, when the intercom screeched on.

"God," Casey hissed, "Tinker really needs to learn how to use that."

"Tell me about it."

"_Good afternoon, student body! Remember to pick up your tickets for the Funky Friday Fiesta this weekend. Tickets will be available at a super-duper discounted rate of ten dollars before the dance, and twelve dollars at the door. So don't forget to grab your ticket __**and **__that special someone before Friday,"_ there were a series of muffled sounds before he continued, "_Also, on an unrelated note, if anyone's seen my gym shorts, show some Thompson High spirit and return them to the principle's office. Thank you."_

The intercom clicked off and Casey found her gaze instinctively drifting to Derek, who was staring rather openly back at her.

"So what do you think about that?"

"What? Tinker's gym shorts? Because I generally try not to-"

"No; I mean the 'Funky Fiesta'," Derek explained, twirling around his pointer finger.

"Oh," she shrugged, "It sounds…funky...by definition, I suppose."

"Were you planning on...'funking' with anyone?"

"Well, no one's asked me."

"Yet," Derek muttered glancing around the corridor for a moment, "Well, what if someone does?"

She shifted her bag on her right shoulder. "I dunno. Hadn't really considered it, I guess."

"Right. Of course."

He cleared his throat and they shifted awkwardly beside each other.

"How about you?" Casey finally asked.

"Oh, well I…"

""Hey Derek!""

He was interrupted as a string of girls walked by, waving and giggling in his direction. Derek returned a sheepish wave and Casey huffed before shutting her locker door. "I don't even know why I bothered asking. I'm sure you have a plethora of opportunities."

"I don't know what that means," Derek called as Casey stormed off, "But, I can explain."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Okay, red alert, 2 O'clock."

Casey's features scrunched in confusion as her and Emily stood by the school steps. "Um, is that…code or something?"

"Well, ya duh. Don't you read any of my memos?"

"You send memos?"

"Of course not," Emily said with sigh, "Code red means 'moderately to extremely hot guy approaching'."

"What? Where? And is he going to assault me or something?" When Emily shot her a disbelieving look, she replied, "What? You said 'alert'."

"Matt Cohen is totally doing the pre-awkward dance invite shuffle by the water fountain. I mean seriously, he's been standing there for like four minutes."

"Why wouldn't he just come up and ask me then?" Casey asked.

"Well, give a guy a little slack, would you? I mean after Toby's multiple dumpings punctuated by brutal beat-down, I'm sure he's a little intimidated."

"Oh, right. That," Casey mumbled dryly.

"Okay, he's wiping his mouth he's and coming over. I'm just gonna…disappear."

And, she did, leaving a flustered and mystified Casey standing in the hallway.

"Hey, Casey," Matt said, smiling anxiously as he approached.

"Um, hi?"

He was silent then and for a startlingly awkward moment, she wondered if he'd speak again. But, he finally continued, "Did you have any plans for this Friday?"

"Well, I-"

"Sorry, she's not interested, Larry."

A pair of questioning gazes landed on Derek as he stood directly between them.

"Uh, my name's not Larry."

"Like I care."

Matt's face was blank, dumbfounded, as Derek placed a possessive hand Casey's shoulder and nodded in the opposite direction. "We need to talk."

When Derek glanced back up and Matt was still standing there, he grumbled, "Why are you still here?"

"Well, I um…"

"_Bye_," Derek cut off, sending him a pointed a look and ushering Casey along with him. "Geez," Derek whispered as they headed down the hallway, "What's his damage?"

"_His _damage?" Casey snapped, finally coming out of her stupor, "Where do you get off cavaliering into my conversations like that?"

"Conversation?" Derek snorted, "That seemed more like an _extremely_ awkward staring contest—occasionally interrupted by stuttering."

Casey gasped, speechless as he pulled her into a deserted classroom.

"But, for real, we need to talk."

"Oh, yeah, there are a definitely a few things I'd like to say to you," she growled, tearing away from his hold.

"Yeah, I'm sure that—as always—there are. But, I need to get this off my chest before it gets lost in bickering, arguing, wrestling, or all of the above," he looked in her eyes, steeling himself, "I'm _really_ not okay with you 'funking' with another guy."

"Oh, really? Well, are you 'a-ok' with your harem following you everywhere?"

Derek sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "I can't help if I'm popular."

"No, actually I think you help it right along."

He bristled. "Well, you didn't look too put off my by Ken doll over there."

"I'm surprised you had time to notice during your little Flirtapalooza."

"I was not flirta…palitzen-loozing," Derek fumbled.

"Ugh, whatever. Are we done here?"

"_Ha._ We are _never_ done."

Casey rolled her eyes, remaining still, but crossing her arms definitely as Derek stepped in front of her. "I know that saying our status is agonizingly complicated right now would be an understatement. But, I think we're at least at the point where I can admit that I don't want you dating other guys. In _any _sense of the word."

"Fine. Then I can admit that I don't want you dating other girls."

"Fine. Then maybe…" Derek threw up his hands "...maybe we shouldn't date other people."

"Fine."

"_Good_."

"Great."

"Awesome."

"Hug?"

"Okay."

Derek's hands were on her hips before he was done answering and he pulled her into a tight, intense embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"Okay," Casey blurted when she pulled back. "I should get to class."

"Right, me, too."


	23. Chapter 22

Note 1: Feedback, feedback, he's our man! If he can't do it, nobody can! Thanks again, guys ;)

Note 2: This chapter's a little shorter than usual, but it's mostly a set up for next chapter, so bygones…hope you enjoy nonetheless.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Casey, you love me, right?"

The brunette looked up warily from her lunch tray as Emily plopped in front of her. "Yes…But why do I have the feeling I'm going to regret it in 3, 2…"

"I need you to take Chris Davies to the dance."

"…1."

"Look, I know it's super short notice and he has that weird eye twitch thing, but it's a life or death emergency." When Casey stared skeptically back at her, she conceded, "Fine, so I'm exaggerating _slightly_. But, Sheldon can't go to the dance unless Chris goes to the dance, and I can't go to the dance unless Sheldon goes and Sheldon can't go unless you go."

Casey blinked, silent for a moment. "Is that supposed to make sense?"

"Chris is Sheldon's tenth distant cousin or something, and like a month ago he promised to entertain him this weekend. Now, he feels too guilty to go with me to the dance unless Chris has a date."

"Well," Casey began, "That's very Shakespearean of you—which is always a plus—but, I'll pass."

"Casey, _please_," Emily cried, reaching over to grab her right hand, "Sheldon and I are totally on the verge of something; and, this dance could be a like catalyst, or-or whatever that stupid chemistry term is…_please please please please…_"

"Alright, fine," Casey interjected, caving under her desperate pout, "I'll think about it."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I said I'd _think_ about it, Em."

"Sure, great, totally no pressure here," Emily assured her, "I'll just let Chris know you're 'thinking' about it.'"

Casey groaned as Emily jumped from the table. "Why do I not see this ending well?"

_IIIIIIIIIIII_

"Please don't see me; please don't see me; please don't see…"

"Casey?"

"Derek, hey!" She called, feigning excitement as he caught up to her at the school exit.

Derek eyed her curiously. "Happy to see me?"

"Always," she squeaked instantly.

"Always?" Derek cocked a bemused brow as he held the door open for her, "This is a new development."

"Well, you know, things are changing all around us—I should really go-"

Derek glanced around, "Go where? Schools out. Or wait; is there some secret kingdom you keeners sneak off to after last bell?"

Casey paused from her mid-escape, a touch of amusement taming her nerves and drawing her back. "Yeah, it's under the football field."

"By the concession stand?"

"Bleachers actually."

"Right, of course."

He was smiling at her then, an open, warm grin that made her blush and return it easily.

"Want me to drive you home? There's no practice today," he asked after a moment.

"Um, well, I," Casey paused, thinking quickly, "…was planning on walking back with Em. She's getting ready for the next power walkathon…"

"Then don't distract her. Come with me."

"But, Derek, I-"

She was interrupted as he stripped her of her messenger bag, slinging it around his left shoulder. "See, now you have to."

"Who knew Thompson High was so riddled with purse snatchers?" she remarked dryly.

"And in broad daylight no less! But, hey at least they're charming, impeccably handsome purse snatchers."

"Allegedly," Casey mumbled.

"Hey," Derek held a hand to his heart, "I may be a purse snatcher, but I still have a heart…if you prick me, will I not bleed?"

"If I hit you, will you not leave?"

"Well, I think we all know the answer to that question."

"I don't know," Casey shrugged playfully, "Maybe we should do a quick run through, just to make sure."

"Wait, wait, wait," Derek began with a wry, knowing grin, "Is this another one of your silly little excuses to grope me?"

Casey rolled her eyes as they approached the car. "Please; like I'd need an excuse to grope you, you manwhore."

"Hey. I may be beautiful; but I am not a piece of meat."

His sad, vulnerable pout from across the car won laughter from her instantly and Casey shook her head as the car doors clicked open. Maybe this car ride wouldn't be so awkward after all. Maybe she could avoid mentioning it all toget…

"Man, someone put another one of these stupid dance fliers on my windshield," Derek grumbled, crumpling it up as he entered the driver's side.

Casey cursed, "_Great_."

"Oh, did you want this?" Derek asked, frowning as he lifted up the balled up paper, "To recycle or save dolphins or something?"

"No; no dolphin saving today unfortunately."

Derek just smirked and reached for the ignition, but Casey abruptly stopped him. "I have a question for you. A-a…hypothetical question."

"Oh, god are we going to talk about feelings again?" Derek whined.

"No, not feelings, just…a fun funster of a question," Derek sent her a quizzical look as she continued, "What if—I don't know, let's use our imaginations here…I was to go the dance with another guy?"

Casey braced herself, winching, only to be met with laughter. "Oh, that would be _excellent_…"

"Re-realy?"

"Yeah, then all I'd need is a quick roll in some shattered glass and it'd be the best day ever. Or wait, maybe just a nice stroll off a cliff on a sunny day…or-or even better, we could double date!"

Derek was laughing hysterically while Casey looked helplessly out the window. "Ha…ha, funny."

He let out a few more chuckles before finally staring the car. "Phew, that was a good one, Spacey."

"Thanks," she muttered, "I try."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Are you done yet?"

Casey's eye remained on her school work with which she'd been purposefully occupying herself all afternoon as Derek poked his head into her bedroom.

"No, not yet," she muttered.

"No?" Derek questioned, now walking fully into her room, "How could you not be? You've been working for hours."

Casey shrugged. "Well, you know me; I'm just a working machine."

"A wacky, quacky working machine."

Casey smiled slightly at that, finally glancing up from her text book. "Why does this sound like the beginning of a Disney movie?"

Derek snorted. "I don't know, maybe someone's hearing music in their heart again."

"Huh?"

"Uh, uh nothing; long story," Derek answered quickly. He cleared his throat, "But, um, for real, can we talk real quick?"

Casey sent him a wary look. "About?"

"Feelings," he said with an amused, yet sincere look.

Casey's gaze instantly softened and she sat rather dumbly as Derek leaned against the side of her desk.

"I was thinking about the dance-"

"Wait, what?! What did you hear?!"

"Hear?" Derek repeated, baffled by her outburst, "Um, I don't really…I mean I hear a lot of things…?

"Oh, oh, right, never mind," she chuckled nervously, "…continue."

"Ooookay…" Derek shook his head and let it go as he finished, "I was thinking…you know how neither of us is going…?"

"Well-"

"What if we told our parents we were and then we didn't?"

Casey paused, considering. "Well, that would be clever if not slightly pointless…"

"The point's supposed to be that we'd go somewhere else, Spacey."

"Somewhere else?"

"Together," he answered slowly.

"Oh…_Oh_," Casey sat up in her seat, "You mean like a-like a da-?"

"No, _no_; definitely not. Just a…a thing that two people do together…alone."

"Oh, that-that other thing…"

"Yeah, yeah with the-the food and the stuff…"

"…at night…"

"…and um talking and the stuff…"

"Right," Casey took a deep, tense breath, "Wow. Um, okay…"

"Okay?" Derek straightened instantly, "So-so you mean yes 'okay'?"

"Oh, no sorry; I meant 'okay' as in I understand what you're asking now."

"Oh."

His face fell a little and Casey sighed to herself. "Look, I…I sort of…have this…it's a _really _funny story actually; you'll probably laugh…"

But, Derek just cut her off. "No, it's fine; I get it. You're busy…or something."

"Yeah, kind of."

Derek cleared his throat and stepped back from her desk. "Well…this has been fun and awkward. Maybe we should do this again on the other most embarrassing day of my life…"

Casey grimaced. "Derek…"

"No, no, it's cool. Totally, fabulously cool."

He was halfway to her door, when Casey stood abruptly from her desk.

"Derek-"

"Casey!"

""Emily?""

They both stared blankly as Emily stormed into Casey's room, brushing past Derek to run excitedly to Casey. "Okay, it took some maneuvering, but we're totally set for the dance!"

"She's not going to the dance," Derek muttered quietly behind her, "She's busy-"

"You're not going?! You cannot not go. What am I supposed to tell Chris?"

"Chris?" Derek interjected.

But, Emily promptly ignored him. "I mean there's no way he could find another date so last minute…"

"Date" Derek interrupted again, his voice hardening.

"…you already promised you'd go. And you can't just taksy backsy, everyone knows that."

"_Go?_"

Emily squinted, finally turning around to address Derek. "Yes. She's going to the dance with Chris Davies; what part of that is so hard to comprehend?"

Emily turned back to Casey, but her eyes were on Derek, whose eyes flashed with a look of sharp pain before closing off.

"You _are _still going aren't you?" Emily pleaded.

"Well…well…" she sighed, before glancing between them, "Yes, I am…Derek!"

Her bedroom door was shut before she could even finish and she groaned as Emily looked on dismissively.

"What? It's probably good he left. I mean he was seriously cramping our girl talk."


	24. Chapter 23

Note 1: I can never thank you guys enough for all the feedback (which, if you haven't guessed already, I really enjoy ;) ). Besides from being flattered / inspired, I really do get a kick out some of your responses, hehe. Oh, and, wow, I never expected so much hate mail for Emily, lol. Hopefully, you'll forgive her soon enough.

Note 2: This chapter does not follow directly after the last one, just in case it isn't clear.

Dramatic Thunderclap! P

IIIIIIIIIIII

"…_hardheaded, insensitive pig!_"

"_Well, 'oink, oink,' toots. 'cause at least I'm an honest pig."_

"_Honestly disgusting._"

Edwin groaned as he and a disheveled Lizzie met in the hallway amidst angry shouts from Derek's room. "God, what are they getting up early to fight now?"

"More like staying up late. I heard them all last night."

"Who started it this time?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Does it make a difference?" beat, "Odds or evens for the shower?"

"Odds."

_I_

"…can't believe you asked her out..._right_ in front of me."

Derek smirked from where he lay on his bed. "Oh, gee, was that _you_ there?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it must have been difficult to see past her mile wide, bottle blonde bleached hair."

"Trust me; that's not where I was looking," Casey's mouth parted with indignation as he continued, "But, I'm sure you're just getting a little disoriented from having to follow Chris's glass eye rolling about everywhere—and, by the way, in case you couldn't tell, he's probably looking at your breasts."

Derek was standing now, having gotten more worked up as he went on and Casey's head shook in exasperation. "There is so much wrong with that statement, I don't even know where to begin…"

"Well, I'm sure you'll find a place, won't you?"

"…first of all, he has an eye twitch; not a fake eye…"

"Right, because _that's_ the pressing issue here."

"….secondly, for the kabillionth time, I do _not_ have conversations, let alone a relationship with Chris…"

"…ha!"

"…and, third, and most importantly, you're an ass…"

"…at your service 24/7."

"…and, you shouldn't be looking at anyone else's chest," when Derek's eyes widened slightly, she amended, "Or mine, for that matter."

"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart."

She glowered at him. "Don't call me sweetheart when you're being sarcastic."

"Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart," he sung.

"Ass, ass, ass!"

It was a near tantrum as she growled and pulled his jersey over her head, balling it up, and then shoving it into his chest.

"What, so you're giving it back then?" he asked tightly.

"And this."

He flinched as an armband hit him squarely in the forehead.

"Why don't you give them to 'Sandy'?"

"Probably too big for her."

"Well, I'm sure all the air in her head should take up some space."

"Not as much as your ginormous mouth…" he flashed her a daring look, "…_and _behind."

"Oh, no you …"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…didn't just tell me," Derek groused as they stormed into the driveway.

"I _did_ tell you."

"After I already found out. Kinda kills the surprise factor a little, don't ya think?"

Casey rolled her eyes, letting out a dry laugh. "Right, and you were just _such_ a gentlemen by flaunting your hot date with Sandy."

"Yeah, she is pretty hot, isn't she?"

"Not as hot as me."

It tore the smirk right off his face as they entered the car.

"Or as bitchy."

"Oh, you don't even want to _see_ me 'bitchy'."

"I pretty much don't want to see you period right no-uh...?"

Derek froze, watching her with questioning eyes as she reached over and fastened him up.

"Wear your seatbelt," she ordered, "And we're not fighting."

"Then what are we doing? Spelunking?"

"_Not in the car_," she hissed, "Not after…" she trailed off and glanced glumly out the window.

"Right," Derek cleared his throat, "Well, we'll fight when we get out then."

She smiled sweetly. "It's a 'date'."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I've never been so-"

"No."

"You completely…"

"Not yet."

Derek grunted and submitted to tense silence until he pulled jerkily into the school parking lot. "You made me look like a complete idiot!" he finally barked.

"Yeah, well it wasn't a far stretch," Derek just glowered as she continued, "And, you act as if I planned for it to happen that way. Like seeing you in pain doesn't…" she stopped, sighing, "…like I enjoy it or something."

"Oh, you mean it wasn't sunshine and butterflies for you, too?" he snarked.

"I hated it," she snapped, releasing her seatbelt, "I hated being in that position between you and Emily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Casey," he said, placing a hand of mock sympathy on her shoulder, "Are _you_ okay?" he bit out.

Casey sent him a scathing look and shrugged him off. "You know, for someone so heart-stricken, you sure were quick to move on to your bimbos waiting in the wings."

"Well, at least they were in the wings and not front and center stage."

"There was no one my stage; you are such--ah, I have to get to class."

"Fine; then we'll meet after."

"_Fine,_" she checked her watch. "Around 12?"

"I'll be counting the seconds."

_IIIIIIIIIIII_

"…mmmpovermemmph!"

"Don't yell at me with your mouth full," Casey ordered Derek from across the bench, picking onions from her sandwich.

He scowled, but swallowed his chips. "You shouldn't have chosen Emily over me."

"I was not _choosing_ anyone. I assumed—rather irrationally apparently—that you'd be the least sensitive."

"I am _not_ sensitive." He shoved an entire muffin into his mouth to illustrate his point.

"Right. You just have all the other characteristics of a baby."

"This from the woman who cries during 'sad' commercials," he smirked then, a thought occurring, "Hey, I wonder if Chris can cry with his fake eye."

"I wonder if Sandy can even spell 'eye'," Casey jabbed.

"Somehow it's not her spelling that interests me."

"Sure, as long as she's quasi-blonde, right?"

"Blonde and uncomplicated."

"Don't forget uneducated," she grabbed her lunch, glaring at him as she bit out, "See you after school, idiot."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…asked her just because you knew it would piss me off…"

"Case-"

"…even after I told you again and again…"

"Casey-"

"…that I am not interested in Chris!"

"Fine; whatever. Just open the door, it's freezing! Look, you're hands are shaking."

"That's because I'm angry, doofus, not cold."

"Well, I'm both; so move it."

Derek snatched the keys from her before she could react, swiftly unlocking the door. He held it open for her. "Princesses first."

"And dunces last?"

They exchanged heated looks, before shuffling inside.

Derek grunted. "God, you can be such a…"

_IIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…superficial bimbo," Casey spat.

"Better than a socially inept, seeing impaired reject."

Casey sighed and pulled the tie from her hair as she and Derek trudged into the bathroom, now back in their pajamas.

"She must have the intelligence of a bewildered baboon," she paused, right index finger fixed on her lip, "No, wait, that's you."

"Huh, great sarcasm. Almost as dry as your average boy toy's personality."

"Oh, and, correct me if I'm wrong, but technically do your dates even have enough brain cells to comprise a personality?"

"Beats me," Derek said with a smirk, "It's usually not their 'personality' I'm focusing on."

Casey rolled her eyes as she reached for her toothbrush. "You could do so much better. But, no; you just have to surround yourself with ditzy, moronic _easy_ girls…"

"…and you always have to settle for the cookie cutter, GAP models…"

"…who can barely tie their own shoelaces…"

"…perfect hair, perfect dimples, perfect brain dead zombies…"

"…of course that will never change since you let your pride and stupidity ruin any real relationships…"

"…always too uptight and bitchy to have what you really want; not that you _ever_ really know what you want…"

"…always too damn lazy to go after anyone harder, better…"

"_Hey_," the rhythm snapped as Derek grabbed her, tugging her forearm and pulling her towards him, "I'm totally after you. I'm like _insanely_ after you. But, you…you just…you make everything so difficult."

"_I_ make everything difficult?"

"Yes."

"I apologized to you over and over and over again…"

"And, I keep seeing it over and over an-"'

"_I'm_ _sorry!_"

Derek blinked as she continued, voice strained with exhausted desperation, "I'm really, really sorry, Derek."

He released her and she stared at him until his gaze finally gentled.

"Me, too."

_II_

"Lisa Morgan?"

"Taken."

"Mina Spencer?"

"Crutches."

"How about," Derek yawned, stretching his arms, "I dunno, that French chick."

"Fredrique? She has mono. Although, she's trying to pass it off as the flu."

"Unsurprising," Derek murmured as she scratched another name off her list.

"You want a snack?" Casey offered, sitting up, "I baked some cookies."

"Oh, oui oui," Casey smiled slightly as she stood from the island, "I didn't know there were goodies."

"Yeah, I made them for you…_before_ you asked Sandy out."

"Mmm, guilt food. Just like I like it."

Casey rolled her eyes and passed him the tray. After he devoured the first one, she sent him a saucy look, "Now you know what you were missing."

Derek smirked lazily and took another bite.

"Cindy?" Casey suggested after a moment, eyes still smiling at him.

"She could work. She's that girl with the-the…?" he waved his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, that weird limp thing. I think one leg's shorter than the other or something."

Derek shrugged. "Could even the playing field," he paused, thinking, "Or not since she's uneven…?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure how that metaphor works out."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Okay, we've got to move fast," Casey murmured as she Derek prepped by the water fountain, "I just told Chris I can't go with him to the dance, which gives us uh," she tilted her head back and forth, "I dunno maybe two, three minutes until Emily finds out."

"Piece of cake."

He moved to walk over and she grabbed his arm cuff, pinning him with a stern look. "Derek," she warned.

"What? It's a guy thing. We just do things quicker; like bathing or going to the bathroom."

"Well, remember to wash your hands this time."

"Huh?"

"It's a metaphor."

"I don't get it."

"I know; I think we're getting rusty with those," she shook her head, "Just don't cut corners."

"Got it."

_I_

"Hi, Cindy!"

Casey flashed a beaming smile as she approached the redhead at her locker.

"Um, hi," she returned slowly, "Casey, right?"

"Right. We were in history together last year."

"Okay."

There was an awkward silence with Casey just smiling perkily at her and Cindy looking uncomfortable.

"Um, if we're done here, I should really get to cla-"

"Do you have a date to the dance?" Casey blurted.

Cindy's eyes bulged. "Wow, um, I'm flattered, Casey; but I'm straight."

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no," Casey fumbled, laughing nervously, "It's not like that. I'm totally not gay—not that there's anything wrong with that; that's totally ok," she called over her shoulder. She turned back to Cindy's befuddled form, "Look, I'll just break it down. There's this really nice, cute, but incredibly shy guy who's into you."

"_Really_?" Cindy's features instantly lit.

"Yeah, and he wants to ask you to the dance, but he's afraid you might say 'no.'"

"Why would I say no? I haven't had a date in three years."

Casey grimaced. "Oh, sweetie…" she schooled her features, clearing her throat, "Why don't I fix you up a little…" Casey said, adjusting her blouse, giving her hair a quick fluff, and handing her some lip gloss,"…and I'll let him know you're interested."

Cindy smiled anxiously. "Okay."

"One sec, hon."

She took a step behind her and made some strange, baseball like sign to Derek down the hall, who nodded instantly.

"Hey, Davies," Derek called to the male standing a couple lockers away from him.

Chris looked startled that Derek was acknowledging him. "Uh…"

"Cindy likes you and she's," he paused, "…reasonably hot. So go ask her out to the dance before I hurt you."

"Um, okay."

_II_

"What did you say to him?" Casey asked when she and Derek met up a few minutes later.

"What do you mean?"

Casey sent him a blank look. "I don't know how else I could phrase that question."

Derek rolled his eyes. "It was nothing."

"Pfft. Even 'nothing' takes longer than that."

"Look, just because you can't do these things as quickly and efficiently as I can," Casey sent him an incredulous look, "Doesn't mean I'm not inspiring."

"Inspiring?" Casey laughed out right, "You are beyond delusional."

"Hey; it worked, didn't it?"

Derek tilted his head to their left where Cindy and Chris were smiling nervously at each other. Derek smirked and tossed an arm over her shoulder, "Ah, young love. I mean honestly though, isn't that what the Funky Fiesta's all about?"

"Really?" Casey smiled ruefully, "I could have sworn it was about arguing yourself into oblivion."

"I don't know, Case. I think we might have some funk left in us yet."

Casey guffawed. "Lamest ask-out _ever_."

"Who said I was asking you out?"

Casey sent him an amused look as he took a few steps in front of her. "Oh, well, pardon my spurious presumption."

"God, I get so hot when you talk like that."

"You get hot when I talk, walk…"

"_Bake._"

Casey shoulder bumped him. "Just ask me out already."

"Huh, well…"

When Derek ducked his head and looked away, Casey frowned. "You're not actually nervous, are you?"

"Well, I thought I had the green light before and…"

"Fine, then I'll do it," she deepened her voice, "Hey, babe. Me and you. Friday night."

It was Derek's turn to laugh. "I would _never_ ask you out like that."

"Yeah, well, since you're not _asking_ me-"

"Fine," he cut her off, "I wanna take you out…"

"Yes," she answered instantly.

"…at night…."

"Yes," she repeated.

"…and do food and talking...and stuff."

"Yes," she smiled gently, "It's a date."

_IIIIIIIIIIIII_

Note: Hey, a note at the end of the chapter. Look at me being all spontaneous ;) I just wanted to assure / warn(?) you guys that the deeper issues in their relationships and reasons they didn't start dating long ago will be addressed in parts to come. Until then…


	25. Chapter 24

Note 1: I accept all marriage invitations (as long as you vow to shower me with money, food, and feedback ;) But, is it okay if I see other reviewers, too? Lol Much love to you all, as always!

Note 2: Bunch of stuff I need to clarify before the chapter begins…

-Here are the "bases" as I understand them (I know there are several different interpretations): 1) kissing, 2) making out, possibly light groping, and you can use your imaginations with the rest.

- I'm using some fairly basic French (hopefully correctly ;) ) You could probably guess what it means, but I'll post translations at the bottom for those who are curious

-This starts before thier first date.

P.S., yes, I am a chick for all who've been wondering for the last 20 odd chapters. ;)

_IIIIIIIIIIIII _

"Derek?"

"Yeah?"

Casey leaned over his desk and whispered, "Je t'adore."

"Huh?"

"That's what I thought," she sighed, propping her cheek tiredly in her right hand, "You know, if you were actually doing your French homework like you were supposed to, and not checking hockey scores, you'd know what I was saying."

"Hey. I am _entirely_ focused on you _and _my studies," Derek insisted, earning an eye roll from the brunette, "I just didn't hear is all. Try me again."

She spoke slowly, "Je…"

"Je…"

"T'…"

"T'…"

"adore…Je t'adore."

"Something about my cat?" Derek flashed her a grin, "Come on, Case, just tell me."

"No, you're gonna have to work for that compliment."

"A compliment, huh? We'll now I'll definitely look it up."

Casey sent him a knowing look as he flipped through his textbook. "I figured this would be the only way to get you to pass."

Derek's lips quirked as he finished turning pages. "Hmm," he mumbled before glancing back up, "Well, moi, aussi, ma chérie d'amour."

"You totally stole that from Stevie Wonder."

"Well, come on. I'm barely passing French; what'd you expect?"

She fixed him with an enticing smile, biting at the end of her pen. "You know, I respond very well to hot guys who speak French."

"I _totally _speak French."

"Fine," she challenged, "Say something else."

"Vous avez grand les mollet."

Casey squinted. "I have large the calf?"

"Close enough."

"_Derek_! You learned that just to annoy me, didn't you?"

He smirked. "And, you thought I didn't study."

"You study all the things that aggravate me."

"I study all the things that make you tick."

"Well, French makes me tick like a timer; so learn to love it."

Derek reached over, tender fingers grasping hers and brushing her palm. "Is that all that makes you tick?"

Casey smiled to herself, but reluctantly pulled away.

"Is touching bad again?" he groaned.

"No, touching can be quite good. But, we haven't gone out yet and I fully expect to be treated like the 'princess' you insist I am."

"How 'bout a naughty princess?"

"How 'bout _'no'_," she sent him a pointed look, "You better start planning that date."

"You're serious?" Derek let out a disbelieving chuckle, "So your high maintenance actually reaches new heights when you're dating?"

"I'm not dating you," her voice turned saccharine sweet, "Just waiting ever so patiently."

"Hey. You know my policy; put out first; date second," Off her sharp look, he muttered, "Okay, sore subject."

"I'm serious, Derek. These sort of things are really important to me."

"Why," he whined, "It's just us."

"How utterly romantic," she deadpanned.

"You know what I find romantic? Ribs and tube tops."

"Neither of which are in your future unless you impress me."

"Ahh," Derek sat back, smiling softly, "And, the layers of prissyness unfold…"

"So what? It makes me 'prissy' to want to feel courted?"

"Courted? Unh uh, no way," Derek shook his head repeatedly, "Unless we're talking defensive basketball strategies, I do not want to have this conversation."

"Fine; then that's not all you don't want to 'have'," Derek was speechless as she continued, standing, "You asked me out and you're taking me out. And, I better damn well be swept off my impeccably manicured feet."

Derek stood with her then. "Well, does tripping you count?"

"Oh, that's it."

"Oh, yeah; oh, yeah? What's it?"

"You can forget second base."

"Oh, is Umpire Spacey laying down the law now?"

"There goes first. You know what? You're outta here—_what?!_" Casey snapped when he just watched her with a bemused grin.

"I have dinner reservations at Georgino's."

"I know you do; I saw it on your desk."

They smiled gamely at each other and then retook their seats.

"Impressive," Derek murmured.

"Why, thank you…although," Casey held up her pointer finger, looking sheepish, "When I say _on_ your desk, I sorta mean freakishly fell out the top drawer while I may or may not have been searching for clues."

"No kidding? 'cause I've been having that problem all week. I mean, I can barely sit here."

"I know; you should really get that checked out before you get hurt…"

"Or you do," Derek added, "while you're, you know, casually strolling about my room," he laughed suddenly, sitting up, "Wait a minute, is that why my notebooks were organized?"

"Well, I was already there; it would have been rude not to."

Derek shook his head at her and said, "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh, I was totally surprised," she threw her hands up in emphasis, "Ridiculously surprised."

He nodded his head in her direction. "Then the princess approves?"

"She _definitely_ approves."

His eyes lit mischievously. "Wear something low cut."

"Learn more French."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII _

"Hot date?"

"Out, Edwin. _Now,_" Derek grumbled as he struggled with his collared shirt.

But, his brother took a few more brave steps into his room. "I'm just sayin'…clean clothes, styled hair, a _tie_?"

Casey grinned as she joined Edwin, leaning on the doorframe. "Yeah, she must be a total babe."

"Casey, Casey, Casey…"

Derek smirked, several retorts on his lips for her. But, it turned to a look of genuine appreciation as he took in her satin blue dress and tempting smile.

"Great insult," Edwin quipped when he never finished.

Derek scowled and straightened. Then he lunged for him, barely missing his shoulder as he escaped. "Later, bro!"

"Oh, yo-"

"Derek," Casey interjected, a firm hand on his wrist pulling him back, "You're gonna mess up your clothes."

"Oh, no trust me. It'll only take one hit-"

"_Derek_," she chided, a touch of amusement in her voice.

"Fine; fine," he sent her smug look and spun around theatrically, "I do look amazing, don't I?"

"I'm sorry," Casey pointed out into the hallway, stepping back, "Do you want me to leave so you can make out with yourself?"

"Cute," he mumbled.

"Plus, you're not even dressed yet."

Derek glanced down at his half buttoned shirt. "It's these-these stupid buttons."

"Oh, so it's the _buttons_ that are stupid, huh?"

His mouth parted in reply, but she silenced him as she reached for his shirt, carefully buttoning. "Hey, maybe I can teach you how to tie knots later, too!"

"Or maybe I could teach you something even more fun to even the score."

"Trust me," she murmured as she reached the top, "I'm very proficient in all necessary matters."

Derek sighed. "You are the hottest prude I know."

"Pfft. I'm the hottest anything you know," Derek smirked as she grabbed his tie form the dresser, "You do know how to use this, right?"

"Yeah," Derek shrugged off, taking it from her, "You just, you know…loop it, or whatever."

Casey folded her arms, amused. "This I have to see."

"Yeah, yeah, you just…" Derek fumbled with the cloth, wrapping himself up.

"Okay, okay; hold it, hon. You look like you're trying to hang yourself," She took a moment helping him untangle himself, "I guess I'll get to teach you how to tie that knot, after all."

"Ah, what would ever I do without you?"

"Live a meaningless, pathetic, lonely life." She pulled a face at him when she was finished, but when she looked up, his expression was sober.

"That's my favorite color," he said, looking at her dress.

"Je sais," she smiled softly, "I know."

His brows furrowed in concentration. "Tu es…très, très beau."

When Casey started laughing his eyes pinned her, unsure. "What?"

"Sorry, sorry," she bit back a smile, "It's just…you called me a very beautiful man."

Derek smiled crookedly. "Better than I thought."

"Oh, that's so cute! Stay still."

Casey and Derek started, a horrific pose as Nora's camera flashed.

"Awww, look at you two. This has got be the first dance where one of you wasn't grounded."

"Wow," Casey's nose scrunched, "That's really…well, really sad actually."

"Don't blink!"

They both did as they were struck with a barrage of flashes.

"Uh, Nora," Derek laughed a little uncomfortably, "Maybe we should save some for the paparazzi, huh?"

"Right; right," She sent them an apologetic look and set her camera down, "You two are just so precious together when you're not fighting. And, I just had to get it on camera."

"Gee, thanks, mom," Casey mumbled, looking utterly embarrassed, "But, don't you have…I don't know, _any_thing else you should be doing?"

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint."

They both sighed as she stepped back into the hallway, only to be shocked again when she stole another quick photo.

"_Wooow_," Derek said when she finally left, "That was…"

"Annoying, unbearable, humiliating…?"

"…totally you."

"_Hey_." She smacked his arm.

"I'm sorry, but the similarities are uncanny," he added quickly, "And, she cooks great, too."

"Are you hitting on my mom?" Casey cracked.

"No, I'm hitting on you _via_ your mom."

"Well, you can just hit on me directly from now on, if that's okay."

Derek winked, a guiding hand on the small of her back as they left. "I'm just getting started."

_IIIIIIIIII _

tbc

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII _

Je t'adore: I adore you

Moi aussi: me too

Ma cherie d'amour: my darling

Je sais: I know


	26. Chapter 25

Note 1: Hehe, I've apparently left some disgruntled reviewers after holding off the date. Sorry, but I can be very particular about how I end chapters, and usually prefer releasing shorter chapters sooner than longer ones after a long period of time. Either way, hopefully this chappy makes it up.

I will be moving in the next couple of days. Unfortunately, this means that I can't predict when the next chapter will be out, although I'll try to get it out asap. Thanks again for all the reviews!

Note 2: This chapter contains a reference to the episode "Don't Take a Tip from Me," in which Casey and Derek work the same job and Casey ends up getting fired (by Derek). He later leaves the job when the manager insults Casey, but comes back when the owner offers him a higher wage.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Take your hand off my back."

"Oh, okay."

"Stop staring at my ass and look forward."

"Alright."

"_Don't_ walk so close."

"_Sorry._"

Derek huffed, walking stiffly and about a mile apart from her until he and Casey approached the car.

"Is there anything I _can _do to you tonight?"

"Not while my mom's looking—now smile."

They turned back in unison, sending face splitting grins to Nora on the porch.

"Bye, mom!" "Bye, Nora!"

"_Have fun, you two!"_

"Maybe I should drive," Casey whispered when they turned back, "It'll look less suspicious."

"Yeah, maybe. But it's our first date."

"And…?"

"And, I'm the man."

"Ugh, that's gotta be one of the most chauvinistic things I've ever heard." Casey muttered through gritted teeth as she flashed another smile to her mom.

"I'm the man," Derek repeated, gesturing to himself and then to her, "You're the woman. So get on the other side—keep smiling—and, let me open the door for you."

"_No._"

"_Yes_."

"Is there a problem?" Nora finally asked, frowning as she took a few steps from the porch.

Derek shook his head adamantly. "No, there-"

"Derek's being a chauvinistic pig who won't let me drive."

He sent her an exasperated look as Nora interjected, "Well, I guess it couldn't last long," she sighed and walked closer to them, "Casey, I know you're a feminist and you have your principles; but, you look so pretty tonight," Casey could feel Derek's gaze silently agreeing beside her, "And it can be very chivalrous for a guy to drive you sometimes. Yeah, sure it's just Derek, but it's still polite. And, you should learn that guys like to do these things for girls before it bites you in the butt later; okay?"

"Fine," Casey sighed dramatically, although now substantially less put off.

"That a girl."

"And, I should, uh, probably get the door for her, you know, to practice."

"Oh, that's so adorable; I knew I'd need this!"

"Ah, mom!" Casey winched as Nora captured them on her camera phone.

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving," she sent Casey a wink, "Tell me all about this 'Chris' guy, okay? And, let him hold the door for you!"

"_Okay_, mom."

"I'm gone; I'm gone."

Derek waited until Nora actually was gone, before observing, "It looks like Nora agrees with me."

"Don't be smug."

"Come on, that's like asking me not to breathe or," he shrugged, "…laugh at monkeys."

"Both essentials to your survival."

"Exactly. Now, please; let me open the door for you."

Casey acquiesced and he closed it gingerly behind her. "Happy?" she said when he entered on the other side.

"Well, contrary to popular belief, I don't open doors for my own health and enjoyment. I just thought it might be nice."

"And, are you driving me because you 'thought it might be nice'?"

"No, that I do because I like control," he smirked at her, "And, because I'm the man."

"Pfft."

"Well, I'm paying, aren't I?"

"You're paying? _Sweet_!" Casey beamed and buckled up excitedly, "Never mind; proceed, my knight."

"Wait? There was actually a chance you wouldn't behead me if I didn't pay for this date?"

"Well, I'm pretty modern about these things; so I guess I thought we'd split halfway, or something."

Derek gaped at her. "But-but, that whole courting thing."

"Yeah, and by that I meant no happy hands until happy hearts."

"Gah!"

"Come on, big, strong man; drive me to the restaurant."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"…tes menton."

Derek laughed softly. "Something about…my cheeks?"

"No," Casey said, smiling as she looked at him from across the car.

"My…" his lips pursed, thinking, "…chin?"

"Yes."

"You like my chin?" Derek shook his head, "That's certainly a new one; but, hey, how could I argue?"

"I've got something even better for you."

Derek's brow line rose attentively. "Oui?"

Casey leaned over and spoke into his ear and Derek tried his best to convert it to English. "I have…" , she continued, "…a big…", she finished with one word, "head…I have a big head."

"Oh, you're getting good," Casey said as she pulled back.

"Well, sometimes ignorance can be bliss. I mean, that sounds really hot when don't know what you're saying. Actually," Derek smirked, "I bet that'd be true with most things you said. You know, if I could just see your lips and not hear any noise."

"Like a mute button?" Casey asked, eyes lit, but unreadable, as she regarded him.

"Right; like a mute button."

"What about a smooch button?"

"Uhm, what?" Derek questioned, glancing over as she leaned towards him again.

"Yeah, you know. So you could skip all the talking and thinking," her fingers were trailing down the left side of his chest, hair falling over his right shoulder, "and just kiss me whenever you wanted, however you wanted…."

"That-that would be nice, yeah," he squeaked, eyes darting between her and the road.

"Yeah, well, too bad you're not getting either of those, huh?"

Derek released a shaky breath as she returned to her seat, smug smile in place.

"You are just…_mean_," he said, still watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we were just being hypothetical," she mumbled clinically.

"You know, I have a theory about you and your cattiness," he began after a moment.

Casey clapped her hands together. "Oh, please, _please_ tell me, Derek."

"When you want something, but you can't have it, or you're afraid of getting it—namely _me_, if that wasn't clear-" Casey's eyes widened, intrigued as he continued, "You just turn on the claw factor. That's why I call you Catwoman."

"Hmm," Casey tapped her chin, feigning contemplation, "Things that get 'turned on' when I'm around Derek…hmm."

She pinned him with a playful, challenging stare and Derek just smiled, a gesture of surprised amusement.

"And, I'm still not calling you Batman."

"You can call me whatever you want, as long as you're doing whatever _I _want."

"_Or_, how 'bout I call you whatever I want and I still just do whatever I want?"

Derek nodded slightly to himself. "You know, that does seem to be the most viable option here, yes."

"Glad we see eye to eye."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Stay in the car," Derek ordered as soon as he parked outside the restaurant.

"Why? Because if you think for even a _second_ that that's how we're going to spend our night-"

"Gee, whiz, Sparky, relax," Derek interrupted, raising conciliatory hands, "I just meant so I could get the door for you."

"Derek, my arms aren't broken."

"Which is surprising. Since you fall so much."

Casey's eyes narrowed as he left the car and started his trek around the back. It was replaced with a smirk however, as her finger struck the automatic locks.

"Casey?" Derek's brows furrowed as he tried the handle again, "Casey, open up. That's not funny."

When she just stuck her tongue out at him from inside the car, Derek rolled his eyes. "_Casey_, come on."

She responded by cracking the window just enough so he could hear her. "I'm sorry; but, my master told me not to leave the car."

His hands gripped the roof as he leaned down to speak to her. "I have never met a woman who tried so hard to dodge a free meal at a nice restaurant."

"Oh, so does that mean I have permission to leave my seat now?"

"Yes," Derek said tightly.

Casey let out a chirpy "woof" as she unlocked the door.

"Well, someone's a difficult Sally."

"That's my name; don't wear it out." When he just stood there, smiling at her, she asked, "What?"

"Nothing. You just-"

"I just what…?"

He sighed. "Interrupt me every time I speak."

"Not every time," Casey said as they fell into step towards Georgino's, "Just when I sense an impending insult."

"You need to fix your radar."

"You need to fix your hair."

Derek blinked as she reached up and adjusted a few errant strands by his forehead. "That piece never goes down," Derek mumbled as she fussed over a particularly spiky patch.

"Yeah, I know. I just think it's cute."

"I think I like your hair better," Derek said, hand rising on its own volition to run through hers, threading through smooth brown locks.

"Yeah?" Casey whispered.

"Yeah."

"_Get out the road, you morons_!"

"Woah!" Derek grimaced as he pulled her to the safety of the sidewalk, "Cars and us _really_ don't mix."

Casey gasped. "Tell me about it."

_IIIIIIIIIIII_

"How could you afford to pay for this?" Casey questioned quietly after their hostess left them at the table.

"Who said anything about paying?"

Casey snorted. "Please, even you're not that charming. I mean, what? Were you planning on winking your way out of here?"

"While smiling," he amended lightly.

"Well, there's the magic touch. Seriously, though…?" Casey watched him, curious.

"Ehh, you don't want to know."

"It wasn't…illegal, was it?"

"Not _technically_…and no animals were harmed," he added quickly.

"You're right…I definitely don't want to know."

"Yeah, why don't you just read your menu and pretend we didn't have this conversation. You know, just in case someone ever asks you something incriminating."

"Sounds like a deal."

Derek leaned forward on his elbows then, eyeing her. "You do know that I have a _job_, right?"

"Yeah, ever since you kept annoying George and he forced you to work again. And, gee, what's the name of that place…? Man, it's on the tip of my tongue…"

"Smelly Nelly's," Derek mumbled, eyes rolling.

"Right. They have great coffee. Horrible service, though."

"Not anymore," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, after you sold your soul to go back to them."

"No, see I sold my soul the first time I went back to them. This time, I was already on file."

"Well, hmph," Casey began, opening her menu, "I'm definitely going to enjoy spending their money. How much do you think the House wine is?"

"Heh; funny."

"Who said I was joking?"

When Casey looked back at him, unblinking, he frowned.

"Uh, well, I…"

"And, the gullibility has no end."

Derek scoffed. "Well, it's not exactly like you're Miss Low Key, here."

"Yeah, but apparently, you're Mr. Sugar Daddy."

"More like sugar substitute. You know like...Splenda Daddy."

"Oh, that's hot."

"Don't I know it."

_IIIIIIIIIIII_

Casey took a bite of cake. "This is ridiculously sweet."

"Really? We could return it," Derek sat up, disgruntled, "I mean it cost enough-"

"No, no," Casey smiled and placed a pacifying hand on his arm, "I meant tonight."

"Oh, right," his brows scrunched as he slid back in his seat, "You think I could get still maybe get a discount, though?"

Casey rolled her eyes, but offered sincerely. "We could go 50 / 50. I don't mind. I mean after Bobby Bradner, anything's perfect."

"No, I couldn—Bobby Bradner? As in our old goalie, Bobby Bradner?"

"No, the other Bobby Bradner. From Galaxy XYZ—of course him."

"You dated Bobby Bradner?"

"Pfft. I would hardly call it dating, _thank, god_. I mean seriously, creepy, much?"

Derek's confused gaze hardened into a glare. "Did he do something to you?"

"No, no. It's more like what he didn't do."

"Oh…so you _wanted_ him to do something to you?"

"Yeah, like, sitting at the same dinner table at the restaurant. Or, um, here's a good one, not speaking in Spanish when he felt uncomfortable. Or, oh, yeah, not paying in pesos would have really been swell."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Every night in my darkest nightmares, I wish were," she let out a long breath, tucking hair behind her ear, "And, then, ugh, he tried to kiss me, or something, I dunno; but it ended up with him passing out on the porch and me not really caring."

"_How_ did I miss this?"

"You were away at some stupid hockey camp or something," Casey muttered absently, "I think it was pretty much the only reason he worked up enough nerve to ask me."

"Alright;, well he was obviously mentally disturbed," Derek reasoned. He shook his head as he questioned, "What was your excuse?"

"_Hey_; he was cute. He was!" she cried when Derek just laughed in her face, "I mean, yeah, it was sort of hard to tell when he was sitting three tables behind, me but…" she trailed off, giggling.

"He was probably just nervous," Derek guessed when he finally stopped chuckling.

"And, Mexican apparently."

"Give him a break, Case; you're hot," he looked at her for a moment, "And, confident, capable, smart,…"

"Go on," Casey prompted, smiling teasingly.

"I just…I wouldn't be surprised if you intimidated a lot of guys is all."

"Do I intimidate you?"

"Um, _no_," Derek said, laughing it off.

"Hey."

"Well, I mean, come on, I've you seen when you wake up with morning breath, bed head, and bunny slippers, when you go to sleep with green alien goo blob on your face, and pretty much every awkward, uncoordinated, humiliating misstep in between."

"Um, check please?"

Derek grabbed her wrist, smiling as he pulled her hand down. "You know what I mean."

"Fine; but, now you're really paying."

"Cool; you think they take pesos here, though? Hey, Senorita?!" Derek called, earning a prompt smack.

"Dumbass."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Wow, she was a bit cranky, don't ya think?"

Casey snorted as she and Derek headed back to the car. "Yeah, well, I think the whole shouting Spanish gibberish at the top of your lungs kind of ticked her off."

"Really? I thought waitresses loved that."

"No, that's _German _gibberish."

"Oh, right. How silly of me."

When they reached the passenger side, Casey sighed, but waited patiently for Derek to open the door for her.

"What? Are your arms broken?"

Casey rolled her eyes; but when she reached to open the door for herself, Derek suddenly stopped her.

"Wait, don't…don't move."

"What?" she tensed, "Is there a spider on me?"

"No," he laughed a little, "I...I just thought of something."

"Okayyyy. Well, are you going to share this mind blowing thought, or keep it to yourself?

Derek's look was sheepish. "Well, we're already running a little late and, we can't really do the whole post-date awkward-standing on the porch thing when we get home..."

"_And_?" Casey asked, a smile touching her lips.

"And…" he titled his head, looking down at her earnestly.

"I thought I didn't intimidate you."

Her lips took his and it was soft, patient, exploratory as she leaned into him. Derek's hands grasped the fabric of her dress, deepening the kiss as her fingers gripped his shoulders. They continued with gentle brushes, whispers against each other's mouths, before finally pulling away.

"Mmm," Casey licked her lips as he released her, "I had a great time tonight," she quipped, the cliche coming out with a faint smile.

"Yeah," Derek murmured, eyes clouding over, "We should...maybe do this again some time?"

"I'll call you."


	27. Chapter 26

Note 1: Thanks for your patience on this one, guys. Life has been hectic. Also, as usual, feedback is my cyber-chocolate. Thanks bunches ;)

Note 2: I'll try never to use the phrase "thanks bunches" ever again. Meanwhile, I kind of picked an arbitrary year for Casey's and Derek's senior year since the show is so ambiguous on this topic. Also, look out for my reference to the uber Dasey Summer School episode.

This takes a place about a week after the last chapter.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIII_

He smelled something fruity. And, when he felt his mattress shifting, Derek's eyes fluttered open, rasping, "Casey?"

Surprised blue eyes darted down at him from where she leaning over the bed, nearly straddling him as her right knee pressed into the comforter and her left hand anchored to the side of his pillow.

"Derek," her cheeks were pink. "You're up."

"And, you're…on top of me?"

"Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly, crouching back onto one side of the mattress.

"Now, usually I wouldn't complain, but…_huh_?"

"I was just leaving you pancakes," she explained, head tilting to the dresser where'd she been reaching to set his plate.

"Pancakes?"

His eyes lit instantly and she smiled. "Yup."

"_Sweet!_ I'm starving."

Derek leaned up on his elbows and she shifted along side him, brows furrowed. "Derek, you just woke up."

"Your point?" he asked blankly, grabbing the plate with a wolfish grin.

"Never mind," she rolled her eyes, and let her chin dip to rest on his shoulder as she watched him eat.

"You like?" she asked in his ear.

"Mmm, Derek like."

"Good," her hand reached up to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "I just wanted to thank you for generally _not_ being a jackass lately."

Derek spared a glance from his plate. "Are you trying to bribe me with food?"

She shrugged, offering a coy smile. "Is it working?"

Derek answered by grinning and shoving a ridiculously large chunk of pancake into his mouth. Casey shook her head, face twisting with both amusement and distaste. "_De-rek_; it's all over your face."

Her thumb reached up to brush some away, and when her hand stilled on his jaw, her eyes deepened suggestively, "Can I have some?"

Her mouth was tasting his before he could respond and she leaned into him, hands tangling his hair as Derek pulled her up and against him in the bed. He arched under her, plate abandoned, as Casey continued to plant soft, languid kisses on his lips.

"Wow," Casey murmured, lips brushing his once more before finally pulling back, "I _am_ a great cook."

"And modest, too," Derek quipped, hands gripping her waist, "Want some more?"

"Unh huh—oh," Derek scowled as she pulled back, "I almost forgot; I have to go."

"Go?" he repeated, voice petulant.

"Don't worry; I'm not gonna go skipping off into a vortex. There's just this scholarship seminar I want to check out at school," she shrugged, "You could come."

He snorted and Casey sighed. "I'm just saying, taking a little academic initiative wouldn't kill you."

"You can't prove that," Derek replied, "And, that's a risk I'm not willing to take."

Casey rolled her eyes, but planted a quick kiss on forehead. "Fine. I'll be back soon."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Hmm, let's see. Chocolate or strawberry?" Derek's brows spiked, nodding to himself as he stood before the freezer, "Or maybe_ both_?"

"_DEREK!"_

"Uh…?"

Derek turned, countenance wary as George stormed into the kitchen, a house phone gripped tightly in his right hand.

"Pops," Derek squeaked, "You're looking smashing today; new shirt?"

"I just got a message from your History teacher, Derek," George bit out, face reddening as he approached him, "Any idea what it was about?"

"The weather?"

"You're failing history!"

"Oh, yeah…that," Derek mumbled, glancing away.

"Of all the irresponsible, reckless, shortsighted things you ever done…this is only about in the top ten," George decided, "which is extremely upsetting."

"Dad, look, it's no big deal-"

"No, big deal? _No big deal_?" George was as livid as he'd ever seen him, "Derek, you can't go to university if you don't pass this class…"

"I know, but-"

"Unh uh, no talking, no explaining, no charming your way out of this. You are officially on house arrest; better yet, _room_ arrest. You are to have _no_ contact with the outside world until you bring up your grade. Starting with the midterm."

"But, dad-"

"Why do I hear talking?" George interrupted, "And, why aren't you in your room?"

Derek huffed, slamming the freezer door before heading for his bedroom.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Okay, so something's different here," Casey mumbled as she stopped outside of Derek's door, where George's "**GROUNDED INDEFINITELY**" sign hung, "But, I just can't _quite_ put my finger on it…"

"Go away, Casey."

"Well, glad to see you, too, 'babe'." She eyed him strangely as she moved into his room, purse dropping on his desk, "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing much; just redecorating," Derek deadpanned as he collected some books from his shelf, "I heard big, bold letters is the new black—I'm grounded, Casey."

"For what? I mean since when has George actually started disciplining anyone in this house?"

"Since I suck at life."

"Okayyy," Casey began, brows bunched with concern as she took slow steps towards him, "When I left, you were slaughtering pancakes and feeling me up; so I'm a little confused…"

He sighed, reluctant, but relaxing slightly under her gentle gaze. "I'll tell you," he started, "But, you have to promise not freak out, okay?"

"I promise," Casey said, a soft hand taking his, "Just tell me."

"I'm failing History-"

"_WHAT?!_" Derek stepped back, jarred, as she fired off, "And how the _hell_ did you manage to pull that one off?"

"Glad to see you're not freaking out."

"Derek, it's your senior year."

"No, _really_?" he glanced sarcastically at his wall calendar, "Is it 2009 already?"

"That's not funny," she snapped, "How could you…how could do something so thoughtless? So gigantically idiotic."

"Please," he held up an encouraging hand, "Don't hold any punches on my account."

"Fine. I won't."

She struck him and Derek hissed. "_Hey."_

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want candy canes and a bucket of butterfly kisses for flunking History?"

"No; what I wanted was for my girlfriend to comfort me. Not trip me up and stomp me into the ground."

"I refuse to comfort you when you do things this stupid and…" her eyes widened with realization, "And you just called me your girlfriend for the first time. Just _greaaat_, Derek. I mean seriously, could you pick a worst time to ask a girl?"

"Ask you? Why would I ask my _girlfriend_ to be my girlfriend?"

"I am _not _your girlfriend."

Derek's face fell into confusion. "What?"

"People generally have certain _conversations_ before that happens. Not just slip it into random arguments."

"I'm not slipping it in; I'm merely stating what is obvious fact."

It's not obvious---ugh, never mind," she sighed, shaking her head, "I can't have this talk with you right now. Not when I'm so ridiculously mad at you."

"Casey doesn't want to talk about something," Derek sniped, "That's a first."

She cut her eyes at him. "I'm going to my room."

"Fine," Derek said flippantly, "That should make not being around you that much easier."

"I'll be back to study when you're done being an ass."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Spare me the charity keener-a-thon. I'll figure it out sans nagging, if that's alright with you."

"And, what?" Casey questioned, stepping back into his room, "You're just gonna cram 100 years of history all on your own?"

"That's the game plan."

"That's a _stupid_ game plan."

"Yeah, well, I'm an idiot, remember? And, you're not my girlfriend."

Casey huffed, face red, as he tossed her purse back at her.

"Don't let the door hit your tiara on the way out."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I'm grounded."

"Excuse me?"

Derek squinted from his desk as Casey sauntered into his room, carrying a stack of papers and books.

"Yeah. I skipped Physics and French," she paused, adding, "And pretty much every other class today."

"Uh…?"

"And, now, unfortunately, George and my mom are forcing me to help you with your school work, so...here you go. And, no; you don't have a choice."

The stack fell with a thud before him and Derek watched blankly for a few wordless second.

"Is this…a joke?"

"Only if you find Canadian history whimsical and amusing," she said, sharply sliding a book over to him.

"Uh," he shook his head, pushing it away, "No way."

"Yes way," she persisted, sending it back.

"I don't want your help." He brushed it to the side.

"You don't have a choice."

Derek sighed as it hit him in the chest. Hard. "_Why_ won't you leave me alone?"

"Because I don't want my trips back from university spoiled by your pathetic, illiterate, still-at-home ass laying around the house."

"I'm touched. Really," Derek placed a hand over his chest to emphasize the point, "Now, get out."

"You and your damned pride."

"Oh, so I guess that would make me the kettle and you the pot then? And, hey," Derek's eyes followed her as she took a seat on his mattress, "Why are you in my bed?"

She shrugged a-matter-of-factly, "So you can't go to sleep."

"Ugh, fine; whatever," he grumbled, grabbing a book, "But, I'm still not letting you help me."

"Whatever you say."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Mind if I dance?"

Derek just grunted, gaze focused on his computer screen as Casey stood from the bed.

"And, maybe sing a little?"

"Sounds great, Spacey," Derek mumbled, eyes rolling as she started humming.

But, when he glanced back up to find her hips swaying, rocking rhythmically to some made up tune, his eyes stayed and latched on. "Umm…?" the pen dropped from his hand as his neck craned to watch her.

She began singing.

"_The Oregon Treaty was a nifty pact; helped our nation get on the map._

_ British Parliament we owe a lot; but, in 1982 we claimed our own spot. _

_John A. Macdonald to Minister Martin; our foreign policy's peaceful, so wars we ain't startin."_

She finished with a kick, before spinning back to watch him expectantly.

"…"

She frowned. "What?"

"You are…" he shook his head, "A nutty, nutty woman."

"Well, it got your attention, didn't it?"

He snorted. "You could say that."

"Fine," Casey said, walking towards him, "Then what was the Oregon Treaty?"

"A treaty," Derek said, smirking as she sat on the corner of his desk. When Casey scowled at him he finished, "Between England and the U.S. that extended the Canadian border ...and, uh…you know, paved the way for the nation or whatever."

"And when was it signed?"

"Eighteen…forty…" Casey nodded slightly, encouraging, "…five?"

"Close, but um, no," she leaned over and gestured to a part of his text.

"Eighty-six," Derek read aloud, "Not too shabby."

Casey grinned. "Not too shabby at all."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Wilfrid Laurier?"

"No."

"Arthur Meighen?"

"Um, not quite."

"Uh...uh," Derek's brows furrowed, "Otto von Bismarck?"

"He's not even Canadian, Derek."

"_Ugh_; this is hopeless." He groaned, his head falling heavily unto the desktop.

"Unh uh, none of that," Casey said, ginger fingers tugging his hair to tilt his head back towards her, "We don't have time for you to sulk."

"I'm not sulking," Derek whined.

"Please; you look like your puppy just died and then came back to kill all your other ones."

He moaned. "God, what if I really fail?"

"You _won't _fail, okay? I won't let you."

He exhaled deeply and when he felt Casey tenderly begin to stroke the nape of his neck, his eyes darkened guiltily.

"Why are you helping me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I haven't exactly been nice to you."

Casey sighed and answered simply, "I'm helping you because I'm your girlfriend. And, that's what girlfriends do."

Derek's eyes darted up to hers, questioning, and she shrugged.

"I mean, yeah, I would have preferred a more romantic gesture; but I know that it was a lot for you to even ask me, and that you care about me...so...'yes'."

Derek felt the corners of lips tugging despite himself.

"Alright," Casey sighed and straightened in her seat, "So, now that that's straight," she flipped a few pages in the text, "...historical political parties..."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII  
_  
"It's hard with you being so good at everything, you know?"

Casey watched him, confused as they sat next to each other at the desk.

"I mean, here you are going to scholarship seminars and I'm struggling to pass History."

"Struggling would imply you were actually trying, Derek," Casey pointed out, "Which, generally, you aren't."

"Right," he muttered.

"You're not an idiot," she said firmly, "If you were, this wouldn't be so frustrating. You're witty, creative, cunning, resourceful, and...practically unstoppable when you want something," she paused, sighing, "And, that's why I know that you could do this...if you really wanted to."

"I do," he said seriously.

"Fine...then do it."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Royal Proclamation, 1763."

"Right."

"Um, the Quiet Revolution."

"Yup."

"Port Royal…1605."

"Yes! Perfect."

Casey was beaming as she set down the last note card. "Told you these would help."

"Yeah, but let's try to uh keep this little flash card session between you and me, 'kay?"

Casey rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. "Fine—mmph oh."

Her reply was caught off with a vicious yawn and Derek's hand reached to palm the back of her head, smoothing the hair there. "Sure you don't want to call it night?"

"No, no," she let out another quick yawn before sitting up and stretching, "I'm good, I'm good; I can do this."

"If you say so."

Derek reached down into his drawer to grab some more index cards. "How about we start on World War—Casey…Casey?"

"mmmmzzzzzzzzzzmmm."

His face softened into a smile as he watched her sprawled out form. He untangled her limbs from school supplies and then gently scooped her up in his arms, "Alright, Spacey; time for bed."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"No, Mr. Ducky, no!" Casey shot up, panting, from where she was laying in bed. Her forehead creased with confusion when she caught her breath and she glanced around, "Derek?"

"I'm right here."

She heard him before she saw. The room was dark except for the lamp at his desk as he approached, and when she finally made out his face it was a mixture of bemusement and consolation.

"You okay?" he asked, slowly taking a seat on the edge.

Casey blushed slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine. But…" she paused for a moment, "Why is your desk in my room?"

He smirked. "Why is _your_ room in my room?"

"Oh," Casey mumbled, realization dawning as took in his room and his pajama bottoms, "Why didn't you just take me back to mine?"

"For some inexplicable reason, I like having you around," he brushed messy hair from her face, "Everybody's asleep, don't worry."

"You look so tired," Casey whispered, sinking back into the comforter, "You should come to bed."

Derek cocked a brow, but she was too sleepy to catch her slip.

"I'm fine. Are you comfortable?"

"Mmmhmm; smells weird, though."

He laughed lightly. "Okay, just go to sleep. I'll wake you up later."

"But, I want to stay up with you."

"Don't worry; I'm fine."

She yawned again, a long drawn out sound. "Mmkay, g'night."

When Derek continued watching her, gaze silently pleading, she whispered, "What?"

"Can I," he paused, steeling himself, "Can I kiss you goodnight?"

Casey's lips quirked, amused. "Since when do you ask?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Since I'm afraid you might say no."

He was surprised when tired hands reached up and wrapped about his neck, pulling him down for a warm, sweet kiss. It ended, but his lips tingled; and missing it, he brushed them back against hers for another quick caress. Then a peck. Then his palm was pressed against her back as she rose with him, and he scooped her up for a deeper, more urgent kiss.

"Mmm, um, good morning?" Derek breathed, eyes questioning as she pulled him back for another embrace.

Her face colored as he kissed away fatigue; and her mind was hazy, but coming alive with sensation as Derek's hands traveled her arms and back. She felt her stomach flutter and tighten as their kisses became harder, longer, intense.

Suddenly her thoughts and pulse were sprinting.

_This was Derek's bed._

_He was only wearing boxers.  
_

_This felt way too good._

"Oh, my god," Casey gasped, her surprised moan swallowed up as Derek captured her mouth again. Then again as his fists bunched the sheets, arms flexing as she hung onto him and the kiss.

"_Casey_," he sighed.

"_Derek_."

They pulled away, mouths inches apart as they breathed heavily, shocked and more than a little unsettled as they clung to each other.

"Um," Derek shook his head, literally speechless for a moment, "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Shouldn't you be doing homework?"

Derek's face scrunched, conflicted before desperately taking her lips again.

"Oh, my god," Casey mumbled again as their lips parted, but this time with more clarity, "I don't think I can sleep here."

"I don't think I can sleep here either," he said tensely. His eyes darted around before finally settling back on her, "Maybe you should go."

"Um, right," she moved to leave, but his arms were still around her, trapping her on the mattress, "Maybe you should let me," she returned.

"Right. Sorry."

"It's fine," she hurriedly slipped from his bed and scurried towards the doorway, "Good night."

Derek's eyes shut, groaning as he fell back in the bed. "Yeah, right."


	28. Note: Hiatus

Note: Due to personal reasons, I'm putting this story on hiatus. Thanks to all faithful reviewers.  



	29. Chapter 27

Author's Note: Thanks so much for all your patience during the hiatus. I know how annoying it is when authors do that, but I honestly wasn't in a place to be spending any significant time writing (sorry if this is cryptic). I appreciate all the continual feedback and am committed to finishing this story (no matter how long it takes). Thanks so much again.

Note 2: This takes place a little less than a week after the last part (if anyone even remembers what happened then…)

_IIIIIIIIIII_

"…we could watch a movie, maybe check out that new mall in Charleston. That's supposed be to cool."

"Hmmm," Casey nodded absently as Emily spouted suggestions. Then, without really thinking, she set down her carton and blurted, "So what about sex?"

"Us?" Emily answered, eyes wide as she dropped her fry, "Because, I…"

"No, Em," Casey huffed, "I mean with guys."

"Like random dudes from Charleston?"

Emily's face was scrunched in confusion and Casey's exasperation as they stared back each other, "Again, _no_; different subject. I mean in general, you know, like with a boyfriend."

"Oh…oh okay," Emily looked relieved as she retrieved her fry form the ketchup puddle, "But, since when are you in any position to get booty?"

"I'm not; just curious," Casey rushed with red cheeks, "Can't a girl be curious?"

"She can…if she's not you," Emily eyed her suspiciously, "So, for real, what's all this sex-ed stuff about?"

"I just want to be informed," Casey insisted, "You know, in case the opportunity and desire should ever…arise."

"Riiight," Emily said with an eye roll, "You let me know when that happens," beat, "Unless, oh yeah, you're really hitting it of with that secret boyfriend of yours."

Emily grinned and Casey laughed manically. "Ha! I _totally_ don't have a secret boyfriend. Obviously. That's ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous is a good word for it," she returned, watching her bemusedly.

"Heh, yeah."

Casey counted to seven in her head and hoped the pause was long enough.

"But, really, though. What do you think about sex and…when to do it or have it, or whatever?"

"I dunno," Emily answered with a shrug, apparently beyond used to Casey's odd outbursts, "I guess it really just depends on the person, you know? Like take Gretta Pederson: she has the ten-date rule."

"The ten-date rule?"

"Yeah. If a guy makes it to ten dates, she automatically puts out—no questions asked. It's like her lucky number or something."

"That's one way of defining 'lucky'," Casey muttered dryly. Then her brows bunched and she asked her, "How do you know that?"

"Well, it's not exactly like the guys are secretive around here."

"Huh, good point," Casey sipped some of her milk, and then persisted, "What about you?"

"Please, you know all my business," Emily said, waving her hand, "Besides, I don't even think Sheldon has the moves for that."

"Well," she chewed her lip and glanced over at Derek in the lunch line, "What if he did?"

"Then he wouldn't be Sheldon. Plus…I dunno…I'm not really sure what makes you 'ready', but I know I'm not. And neither is he."

"But, aren't all guys 'ready''?"

"Heh, well, some definitely. Exhibit A: Hockey team," Emily quipped, gesturing dramatically across from them.

Casey winched as Emily continued, "But, it doesn't matter about the guy; it matters about you. And, trust me you have to know before hand where you're gonna draw your boundary, because most of time they'll push you as far as you're willing to go. I mean just think about Jacob…"

"Yeah, I'd rather not," Casey said, frowning.

"But, what about you?" Emily went on with a knowing smile, "Are you waiting for some fairy tale moment where the heavens part and declare that you're wildly and passionately in love?"

Casey sent her a sheepish look, "Maybe…is that bad?"

"I hope not," Emily said with a shrug, "Because that's what I'm waiting for…sans the voice of God, etc."

Her lips pursed in thought. "Right."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Hey; are we good?" Derek whispered.

Casey tensed as she felt him come behind her at the island, hesitant hands resting on her shoulders. When she didn't answer for a moment, but just stood there, Derek pressed his lips to the crease of her neck, and persisted, "Are we okay, baby?"

His hands were kneading now and it made her feel both good and anxious.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"I dunno, you just…" he sighed and stepped away; and when she turned she could his see his face full with frustration and uncertainty, "…you seem like you have a lot of on your mind lately."

"We're fine," she said instantly, "Really."

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you."

"Well, I haven't really seen you in a few days. And, yeah, normally that be okay…you know, if we didn't _live_ together."

"I'm sorry," she let out a deep breath and shook her head, "I've just…I guess I have been a little preoccupied with stuff. But, I don't want you think I don't want to be around you."

"Then be around me."

His right hand fell on her hip and he tugged her closer, looking down at her deeply. Casey looked back and let his other hand grasp her hip and let his lips touch hers and let him kiss her for the first time in a week as he enveloped her. He started to kiss below her ear and then her neck and Casey gasped before pulling away. "Are we gonna make out?" she blurted.

"Uh," Derek's head jerked back, thrown off. "I was thinking about it. Is that… a problem?

"No. Of course not."

"Good."

He leaned down to kiss her again, but she shifted abruptly, and his lips touched her cheek instead. "Um, I really, I need to go."

Derek groaned as she moved from him. "Go where? It's 9 o'clock at night."

"To my room-"

"Well, I'll come with you-"

"To study," she interjected.

"So, I could-"

"It's just this thing I have to do...right now, I have it…to do."

"_What?_"

"We'll catch up later; bye, hon."

Derek watched, silent but frustrated, as she hurried off.

_IIIIIIIIIIIII_

"_A Lady and Her Anatomy, Sex in the 90s…?"_ Casey huffed as she flipped surreptitiously through the nurse's pamphlets in her locker, "Outdated, much—_oh_, hey," she squeaked, and stuffed the pamphlets deep into her locker as she saw Derek approach her.

"Yeah, hey 'hon'," he greeted dryly.

Casey's flush lessened, and she winched slightly at his tone as he stopped in front of her.

"I passed the test," he said tersely.

She fidgeted uncomfortably under his glower. "Oh?"

"Yeah, A minus."

"That's great, Derek."

A smile broke out despite herself and she reached out to hug him, before thinking better of it and stepping back. "That's good, that's really good," she mumbled.

"I just uh thought you'd wanna know or whatever."

"I do," her voice was rushed, but sincere and they stood staring at each other for a long moment.

"Hey, D," a younger brunette greeted, interrupting their privacy, "Did you get a new haircut?"

"Yeah, it's called a barbershop," he muttered absently. When he proceeded to ignore her and look moodily back at Casey, the indignant girl walked off.

"That was kind of rude," Casey said, her brain on autopilot.

"Yeah, well, you'd know all about being rude and bitchy, wouldn't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Forget it," he said, moving away.

"Forget that you're calling me bitchy, or that you're blowing me off?"

"Why don't you go a step further and forget everything? I mean obviously my mere presence is a waste of the precious time you need to do random, secret, made up crap."

"Derek, you know that's not true…"

"All I know is that I used have to have a girlfriend and now all I have is someone who has better things to do."

"Derek," her mouth dropped as he waved her off and left.

She cursed, crumpled up a pamphlet, and then slammed her locker for good measure, "Stupid sex."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIII_

Casey was walking dejectedly towards study hall when she spotted Emily by the stairs, scribbling furiously into a large notebook. "Catching up on homework?" she guessed.

"Pfft. As if. I'm just updating the relationship section of my gossip file."

"Um…?"

"There's major new activity in the Venturi section—my specialty of course."

"_Derek_ Venturi?" Casey asked, bewildered.

"Yeah. My sources have observed that he's been stingy with the cheerleader love lately, but apparently he's back in full swing."

"What do you mea-"

She trailed off as she spotted Derek by his locker, several giggly girls in tow, including the one from earlier. "Yeah, they do seem pretty chummy, don't they?"

"Tell me about it."

"Good thing he's doesn't have a _girlfriend_, huh?"

"Yeah- Casey—Case?"

Emily frowned when she looked up at the empty space where Casey used to be, before shrugging and going back to her notebook. "That girl is muy weirdo."

_IIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I don't want to be another Kendra, okay. So, if you want to go bananas humping cheerleaders all day, go ahead, but at least have the decency to break it off with me first!"

Derek's eyes bugged, taken aback as she jumped from the hood of his car and hissed at him in the school parking lot.

"I'm not breaking anything off with you," he said as soon as he could get his bearings.

"Oh, really? So what do you call your little party in the hallway? Wooing me? Ugh," her gaze burned so hot there was smoke, "You know what, forget it. Why don't you go 'score' with Pederson; I heard she only takes ten dates—if you can wait that long."

"_Hey_," it was his turn to go completely red, "I don't want to sleep with some random cheerleader, okay? So back off; that's not even what this is about."

"Then tell me, Derek, what is this about?"

His jaw tightened and he said, "Get in the car."

"No, actually, I'll pass on the jack-ass _express_, if you don't mind."

"Do you want to talk or not? Or do you have another imaginary meeting to get to?"

He didn't wait for her to respond before getting in driver's seat and slamming the door after him. Against her better judgment Casey followed, slamming hers harder.

"You're my girlfriend," Derek started immediately.

"Well, that's still under review…"

"So I should be able to talk to you and kiss you and touch you every once in a while. But ever since that night, I just feel like you're off limits or something. Like-like I'm on parole…and it just…_sucks_," he finished, face tight with frustration.

"So you figured you'd revert back to flirting with random blondes again?"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

Her glare was a mixture of hurt and anger as she turned from him.

"Look, that came out wrong," he said with sigh. The back of her head was still staring him in the face when he continued, "I just wanted your attention, alright?"

"My attention?_My attention_?!" she pounded her fist into his chest and he flinched, "How do you think it makes me feel to see you with them, letting them hang all over you, and knowing that you know that they're willing to give it up at a drop of a dime?"

"I don't know; I'm guessing about as crappy as having a girlfriend who acts like she's too disgusted to touch you, let alone be in the same room as you for more than five seconds."

"That is so not fair, Derek."

"Isn't it?"

"Well, excuse me then for needing some time to myself to figure things out."

"I don't have a problem with you having personal time. Take a freaking vacation if you want—go on a cruise. What I have a problem with is you sneaking around like a ninja detective trying to avoid me, not talking to me, not touching me, and then lying to my face about it like I'm an idiot."

"Well, what did you want to me to say, Derek: 'Hey, babe, I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about you and if I want do the nasty with you?'"

"Nasty wha-wait…huh?"

"I'm not ready to have sex!" she nearly burst.

"Well, duh; neither am I!"

"You're…you're not?" Casey said, her emotion deflating into in confusion.

"No, I mean yes, I mean…of course I always want to have sex, I'm a guy, but…I know it's big deal for you and honestly…I don't think I'm ready to say whatever it would say to do that with you, or if I even really know what it would say…"

Casey's eyes were stuck to him as he continued, "And, _of course_, I know you're not ready to have sex. You're the Virginal Casey; you probably won't be ready to until you're married and forty. I knew that when I met you almost three years ago, and I certainly knew that when I asked you to go out with me. So, that's not exactly breaking news."

She was breathless when he finished, until she finally murmured, "Is this really intense and confusing for you, too?"

"Heh; just a little."

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Me, too."

"But," she paused, her gazed fixed on him soberly, "If we're going to do this relationship thing, you can't run off to your stowaway pep squad every time you get upset with me."

"And, you can't pull a Houdini every time things get complicated."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"So, we're still in a relationship?" Derek demanded gruffly.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"_Yes_." He reached for her and she kissed him back roughly, passionately, liked she'd wanted to the whole time.

"We still have to talk about this," she breathed.

"I know," he pulled back slightly, "But, can we just do the whole …'together' thing for a second?"

"Unh huh."

She nodded and leaned up to kiss him again.


	30. Chapter 28

Author's Note: _WOW_, just…wow. I'm literally blown away by all the response. I'm glad to know I haven't gotten too rusty, and there are still people interested in my fic out there. Thanks again for all the patience :)

_IIIIIIIIIIII _

"For the next hour, you're mine," Casey said, flanking Derek as soon as he walked out the school doors.

Derek's brow quirked, intrigued and he followed after her. "Is that an order, Officer Hotty?"

"Yes, sir," she answered with a wink, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the car.

_IIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," Derek quipped as the car pulled into a grassy, secluded area.

"No, we're in Buckville."

"What the heck is Buckville?"

"I dunno," she shrugged, "And neither does anyone else; that's why I picked it."

Derek ducked his head and watched her, an unfightable grin taking his lips as she smiled brightly back at him.

"Get in the backseat," she directed, tilting her head.

"Oh, my, Officer Hotty, are you about to steal my virtue?"

"Pfft. Please, that'd be like robbing a poorhouse."

"Maybe," he said, chuckling, "But, I'm not getting back there until you tell me what's up."

Casey pinned him with an incredulous look. "So, I seriously have to _persuade_ you to get in the backseat of your car with me? Hmph," she feigned an indignant pout, "Good thing I came prepared."

Derek watched curiously as Casey unbuckled her belt and crawled into the back seat. When she settled, she reached into a bag and pulled out a tray of cupcakes.

"Cupcakes?" he cried, "Why didn't you say so?"

He hopped back there with her and she giggled as he cuddled up to her and the food.

"Seriously, though," he questioned, gaze content, but confused, "What's this about?"

"Acing your test, silly."

"Heh…So let me get this straight: you abducted me and drove me out into the middle of nowhere—also known as Buckville—to throw me a party in my backseat?"

"Unh huh," Casey said, oblivious to his baffled expression as she dug into the bag again, "And, I brought candles and party hats and confetti."

"I'm honestly…speechless."

"Then maybe I should do this more often."

She smirked and plopped a paper hat on his head.

_IIIIIIIIIIII _

_Toot!! _Derek laughed as Casey bounced up in down in the backseat, repeatedly blowing the party favor.

"I'm so insanely proud of you!!"

"Or maybe just insane."

"Derek," Casey shoved his shoulder, "This is a big deal. Not only can you graduate, but you totally rocked that test!!" _Toot! _

"Would you stop spazzing already?" he said, although his own face was lit.

"Would you stop being awesome?!" _Toot! _

"Well, you know I can't do that."

He smirked and Casey hit him again and they were both grinning wildly, but staring softly at each other as he had her wrapped up in the backseat. "You're awesome," Casey repeated, seriously, and brushed a kiss against his mouth.

"I feel pretty awesome," he murmured.

"Yeah, you and your big head."

"No," he laughed lightly and stroked her cheek, "I mean you make me…"

"Are you vibrating?" Casey squeaked, jumping a little out of his lap.

"Huh-oh, no babe that's my phone."

"Oh. Right," She scooted from him, "Wait, I think it's mine, too."

They flipped their cells open and then looked up at each other, ""It's home.""

_IIIIIIIIIIII _

"May Day, May Day, May Day!!" Marti was running around shrieking when Derek and Casey entered twenty minutes later.

"Um…." Casey glanced around confusedly.

"Heh, she's only doing that because she's just so happy that her great-Aunt _May_ is coming to visit," Nora said stiffly as she came into the living room, "It's unexpected, but _greatly_ anticipated."

"Aunt May?" Derek squinted, "I thought she died…"

"No, that was your great-Aunt _Mae_, with an 'e'. I know, it's confusing," George explained hurriedly as he bustled around the house.

"Then, oh, god, you don't mean the one with the…that…?"

"Exactly."

Casey looked between George's paled face and Derek's grimace. "She sounds…nice."

"Yeah, if your idea of 'nice' is death incarnate," Edwin groaned, coming down the stairs, "How'd she even get our address?"

"I dunno…I…" George snapped his fingers, sighing, "When I got remarried, we must have ended up in the phone book."

"_Crap_", the Venturi men said in unison.

Casey covered Marti's ears, "Why do I feel like I'm the only one out on a bad joke here?"

"Leave while you can," Derek insisted. He turned to his father, "Maybe we could send Lizzie and Casey on a flight….? Some place nice…with a view…maybe a beach?"

"Derek, that's ridiculous…" George said.

Casey snorted. "Tell me about it…"

"…we can't afford plane tickets this last minute. And, finding a reservation could take too long; it'd have to be by train or bus…"

Casey gaped as Edwin continued, "We don't even have time for that. She'll be here in less than an hour…unless…do you think they could pack on the way?"

"_I'm ready_!" Lizzie called, bounding down the steps, "I packed for warm and cold weather. And, I have a passport."

"Okay, this is crazy people talk," Casey interjected finally, "I mean, seriously, it's only one woman. How bad could she possibly be?"

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII _

"Hi, it's _so good_ to finally mee-"

"You need to shovel your sidewalk," the older woman interrupted, "If I'd have tripped, I would've sued your lazy asses."

Casey shrunk back as May barged past her.

"And, would you get my bags already? What, do I look like a bodybuilder to you?"

"Um, uh-"

"I got them," George inserted, stepping in and grabbing her luggage, "It's so great to see you, Auntie-"

"What kind of grown man calls someone Auntie? It's Aunt. Now, is there tea ready, or not?"

"We were just starting that for you," George said behind the fakest smile Casey had ever witnessed. He looked pointedly at his son, "Right, Derek?"

Derek was glowering behind them, but he didn't argue as he as headed for the kitchen, "Right."

_IIIIIIIIIIIII _

"Why, this has to be one of the ugliest houses I've ever seen," Aunt May was going on as she stirred her tea, the rest of the family sitting glumly around the dinner table, "Who designed this? A blind, schizophrenic?"

"No, just…me," George said dryly.

"Well, that explains that. At least your ex-wife had some taste."

"Speaking of taste," Casey interceded, smiling sweetly, "Are you enjoying the tea?"

"Actually, no. There's too much honey. Although, you'd think even Derek could get that right…"

Casey gasped, and she turned to Derek, waiting expectantly for a comeback, but he just sat there, wordless.

"Edwin, when are you going to take care of that odor—oh," she sniffed, "Never mind, that's just the food."

"Hmm, we'll I'll go ahead and get that ready for us then," Nora said between clenched teeth, leaving the table.

Casey jealously wondered if she was really coming back.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII _

"…and then Derek got suspended again," Aunt May continued on as if her ranting was as agonizing for her as it was for them—which it couldn't possibly have been—"And, I had to look after him. _Again._ And, boy was he always a little brat too…"

She paused to shovel some food into her mouth, only to swallow it distastefully. "Mmm," she set her fork down, "Is this seasoned?"

"Yes," Nora answered tightly, "But there's also some salt right there on the table if you'd like to add more."

"Oh, well, isn't this the little the gourmet restaurant."

"Do you have a problem with the meal? Or just the people serving you?" Casey questioned, face flushed, and her entire body tense as she gripped her fork.

"Casey," Nora hissed.

She glanced across from her and was surprised to see Derek's disapproving look.

"Oh, well, I'd _never_ wish to speak ill of family," May replied, right on the line of sarcasm and sincerity, "I'm sorry if I gave that impression."

"Right. All forgotten."

The two women fixed each other with even smiles before returning to their meals.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII _

"I want that woman _out of our house_," Casey growled as soon the door to the basement closed behind May.

George sent her a tired look as he and Nora set up the inflatable mattress in the living room. "Join the club," he muttered, "But, we don't have a choice. She's family and she was—although inexplicably—very dear to my mother."

"It'll only be for a few days," Nora offered and started the pump.

"But-but the way she talks about Derek—and Edwin and George and everyone," she added on quickly, "She's…" Casey lowered her voice as if speaking profanity at mass, "Not a very kind person."

"That's just part of her charm," George replied dryly.

"Fine," Casey huffed, heading for the steps, "If you're not going to do anything about it, I know someone who will."

_IIIIIIIIIIIII _

"Hate to tell you I told you so," Derek said as soon as his bedroom door flung open, "But, I told you so."

"She is…" Casey's teeth grit, "Nothing short of insufferable."

"And, that's one of her better traits."

"Does she always talk to you like that?" Casey questioned, closing the door behind her.

"Me?" He asked, tensing.

"Well, yeah, she's mean to everyone else, but the brunt of her _lovely_ dinner diatribe was directed towards you."

"You're just saying that because you're my girlfriend," he muttered uncomfortably.

"No, I'm saying that because I have eyes, ears, and basic comprehension skills."

He sighed. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Oh, you mean like how you dropped it all night?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that for someone who makes a career out of being a 'badass', you were pretty much just lame-ass."

"So, it makes me 'lame-ass' not to trash talk my great-Aunt?"

"You trashed talked her just fine before she got here," Casey challenged, "You had all sorts of comments and opinions when we were cleaning the house… and, suddenly, when she's actually here, verbally karate-chopping you and your family, you're Ned Flanders."

"I don't totally get that allusion, I but resent that."

"And, I resent that she's in my house."

"Hey, let's remember something," Derek said, grabbing her arm before she took off, "First, this is my house…" Casey rolled her eyes, "And, second, she's my Aunt; so I get to have the final say here."

"To bad you have nothing to _say_."

Derek bristled as she pulled away and marched off.

_IIIIIIIIIIIII _

"Cheater," Derek said, catching up with her in the bathroom later that night.

"What are you talking about?" Casey muttered before drying her face.

"You're not allowed to do that anymore."

"Do what?"

"Run off like that."

"Pfft. That's my signature move," Derek looked exasperated as she continued, "But, I'm not avoiding you, alright? I'm right here; your little _ball of sunshine_," she snarked before turning back to the mirror.

"Look," Derek sighed and stood next to her, a calming hand on her arm, "I know Aunt May can be a little…"

"Evil?" she chirped sweetly.

"…unpleasant," he settled on, "But she's still my Aunt, and even if you don't get our relationship, I need you to respect it."

"Respect it?!" Casey restrained herself, lowering her voice to answer him, "No way in Buckville."

"Casey," he admonished.

"What, so does it make me a 'good' girlfriend to play nice with your Aunt from Hades?"

"Yes," he said bluntly, "It does. So be a good girlfriend."

Casey gawked as he turned away and left her in the bathroom.


	31. Chapter 29

Note: lol, I'm glad you all "enjoyed" Aunt May. It was fun reading your reactions to her. Anyway, I hope this chapter offers some satisfactory explanation. Thanks for the feedback...you guys eternally rock :)

_IIIIIIIIIIII_

"Hey, babe," Derek said when Casey strutted into his room the next morning. But, his smile faltered when he caught her icy glower.

"Does this mean I'm _good _enough to be your girlfriend today? Gee what an honor."

He sighed. "I knew you'd take that the wrong way."

"Then why'd you say it--you know, forget it; it doesn't matter."

She shoved a packet into his chest.

"What's this?"

"It's a list of the things that would make you a 'good boyfriend.'"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm not. I mean, I figured since you were s_o very_ gracious in sharing your criteria with me, that I'd go ahead and share some of mine with you."

"Casey-"

"When you've got 'em all covered, let me know. But, until then, I'm gonna go ahead tell your Auntie exactly what I think… 'kay, babe?"

Her glare was steaming as she pushed past him.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I think you're amazing."

Casey's eyes widened as Derek stepped into her room twenty minutes later, her list twisted in his hands. He looked uncomfortable, but determined as he moved closer. "And, most days I look at you and I decide that you must have selective brain damage for picking me for your boyfriend and your…" he sighed, eyes dropping for a moment, "your list pretty much proves that, so I wasn't dissing you last night, okay…

"Derek-"

"….And, I wasn't trying to change you or control you…I was just asking, I guess…and… I'm sorry," he exhaled and shook his head, "I suck and I'm sorry."

"Derek, wait…"

She beat him to her door and stood between him and the wood, eyes apologetic as she stared back at him.

"I don't know what you see when you look at me, but if it's anything besides someone who's crazy jonesing for you, then _you're_ the one with brain damage."

She reached out, grabbed the list, and ripped it in half.

"And, if you want me to do this incredibly nonsensical, cryptic thing for you, then fine. I'll do it if makes you happy."

Her face was red with emotion as she leaned up, cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Thank you."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

_"…what's so difficult about making tea!"_

Casey's brow creased as she headed down the steps. She followed the voice towards the kitchen and when she saw Derek there with Aunt May, she stayed silently in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Aunt May," he was muttering quietly.

"You would think ten years would have changed you," Aunt May ranted on, "But, no you're just as rude and incompetent as always."

"Yes, Aunt May," came his robotic reply.

"Now could you at least shovel the walkway so I don't break my hip—unless that's what you're secretly plotting?"

"No, Aunt May. I'll get right to it."

May went off in the other direction and Derek sighed, grabbing his hat off the counter and heading towards the door. When he saw Casey standing there, they watched each other for a moment, before he mumbled, "Sorry you had to see that," and brushed past passed her to get the shovel.

_IIIIIIIIIIII_

"What are you doing out here?" Derek questioned when Casey joined him a few minutes later with a smaller shovel.

"Shoveling," she said plainly.

He sighed. "You don't have to help."

"I know. I want to."

He looked reluctant, but he didn't say anything as she began shoveling.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"It's seems like you spent a lot of time with her growing up," Casey commented after they'd been shoveling for a while.

"Aunt May?" he asked over his shoulder.

She nodded and wiped some of the blowing hair from her face.

"Yeah, I mean…before we moved the first time, she pretty much raised me. Dad just got the job at the law firm and my mom was still studying, so they weren't around a lot."

"That must have been hard."

"It wasn't too bad," Derek said and then grunted as he shoveled off a particularly big heap, "Ed was around to keep me company, and Aunt May was always there, so you know…" he trailed off with a shrug, "Plus I was starting to get into hockey then, too."

She chewed her lip, as if deciding, before continuing, "George said she and his mom were really close."

"Grandma?" his voice gentled and realized she'd never really heard that tone before as he nodded, "Yeah, they were cool. Grandma and her would watch soaps and stuff, while I'd pretty much tortured Ed for fun upstairs," Casey smiled slightly as he continued, "But…then she got sick pretty fast so…" he shrugged it off and cleared his throat, "Yeah, so it was just Ed, Aunt May and me….

"I'm so sorry, Derek."

There was no pretense of shoveling now as she walked over to him.

"It's fine. Grandma Shirley's been dead for years now, it's no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal. She was your grandmother and it sounds like you really loved her."

Derek finally looked up from the ground and at her sympathetic face, and he jerked back. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"I'm sorry," Casey said instantly, "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"I don't want to," he answered firmly, before grabbing his shovel and starting again.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Here's your soup, generously salted; and your tea with just a _touch_ of honey."

The others watched in awe as Casey set the tray before Aunt May, clad in a prim blue dress, her hair pulled up impeccably, and wearing an apron.

"Why, thank you," Aunt May said slowly, "But, I certainly-"

"Couldn't eat a proper dinner without a table cloth, of course," Casey chirped, almost magically pulling out a cloth and setting it on her lap, "I warmed up the basement for you, 'cause I know you were bit chilly down there last night, and right here," she said, setting sheet of paper before her, "Is a list I've printed out of activities you might be interested in while you're here. No pressure, of course, we'd love for you to stay at the house and relax, too, if you'd like. And, please, _please _feel free to let me or anyone else know if need you anything. Anything at all," she finished with a honey-sweet smile.

"I well…um…that will do just fine for now," Aunt May finally sputtered, clearly unsettled as Casey beamed back at her.

"Brilliant," Casey said, "I'm gonna go ahead and get the second course ready."

"Like homework?" Marti whined.

"No, not like homework," Derek mumbled, eying Casey intently as she strutted off into the kitchen.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"What are you doing?" Derek said, apparently having managed to sneak out into the kitchen.

"Cooking dinner, what else?"

"Since when do the meals have _courses_ around here?"

"Since now—can you pass the butter?"

Derek sighed, but reached over and handed it to her, "Casey, why are you doing this?"

"Because she's your family, and you asked me to be nice to her…so here I am, being nice to her."

"No, here you are, being her maidservant."

Casey rolled her eyes as he stepped closer to her, and whispered more urgently.

"Stop it, alright?"

"No," she said, "I want to be a good a hostess."

"But, that's just the point. You're never going to be a good enough hostess to her, because _nothing_ is ever good enough for Aunt May…"

"Well, she didn't seem to have any complaints just now."

"Give her time," he promised, "She's just warming up."

"Derek," she said with a sigh, "I don't mind. Really. So just let me do this for you, okay? I want to."

He groaned, but didn't stop her as she went off with the next tray.

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"I hope you enjoyed the meal," Casey said as Aunt May set down her fork.

There were a few scattered clinks of silverware and then the rest of the table froze, watching expectantly.

"I suppose it was..." May paused, and then reluctantly finished, "Satisfactory."

A wave of sighs followed.

"I'm honestly surprised," she went on, wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin, "Who knew something so well prepared could come out of George's house?"

"Heh, that's, that's really funny, Aunt May," George said with forced laughter.

"Well, it can be a little messy around here," Casey conceded, "But, I'm guessing that's because he's so busy doing well at the firm. He got promoted, you know."

"No, I wasn't aware."

"Well," Casey shrugged casually, "It's not like it was headline news, or anything. Although he did make the local newspaper—here's a clip."

Aunt May's eyes bugged and Derek just watched, amused, as Casey pulled out a laminated copy.

"Hmph," was all she said before Casey slipped it back to her side of the table.

"And, I just happen to have this scrapbook of family achievements and awards we keep around," the photobook fell with a big whoosh before Aunt May.

"Photobook?" Edwin repeated, puzzled. When he felt Lizzie's sharp kick under the table and winched, "Oh, riiiight, the photobook, of course."

"We'll have to skim through this part," Casey announced, guiding her through the pages, "Derek's just won so many trophies and awards and tournaments and captainships…" she sighed as if exhausted by it, "And of course there's when he was prefect, but I'm sure you heard about that," she paused as if deciding, "Let's just hurry on and move to Edwin's science projects, shall we…?"

_IIIIIIIIIIII_

"…and last year she won an award for perfect attendance," Casey finished to a silent and stunned audience. She shut the thick photobook and looked expectantly at Aunt May.

"Oh, well, this has…certainly been informative. I suppose a lot has changed since I've last visited," she cleared her throat, "And, you seem to be _quite_ the impressive young lady."

"Yes, she is," Derek said without thinking. When the rest of the family sent him inquisitive looks, he hurried on, "Well, impressive at being _lame_, of course, heh."

It was apparently believable because George and Nora chided him simultaneously, "_Derek_."

"I don't know what you expect," Aunt May interjected, "He's never been known for his manners or eloquence."

Derek looked away, and Casey quickly stepped in, "Well, it's been great catching up," she said brightly, "Please, once again, let me know if I can do anything for you."

"Well, it does certainly look like you are capable of doing anything," Aunt May said stiffly, "Well…maybe except for the one thing I'd really enjoy. But, never mind, I'm sure it's much too sophisticated to be had here."

Casey spoke earnestly, "No, please, anything."

"Well, if you insist….I'd love some freshly baked Baklava."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Backa-what?"

"Baklava," Casey said, "It's a Greek pastry."

"Well, it might as well be a Greek leprechaun, because there's about an equal chance of us getting one."

Casey rolled her eyes. "It's just food; I can cook it."

"So you've made some before?"

"Well…no," she admitted sheepishly, "But that's what recipes are for."

"Casey. The line ends here, okay? This is ridiculous. Let's just…" he rubbed her shoulder soothingly, "Cut our loses and find a nook to makeout in until she leaves."

"No, Derek. I'm so close to pleasing her; and I will not let a few ground nuts and phyllo dough get in the way."

He squinted. "Fifa-what?"

"Ugh. Just leave and send Lizzie to help me."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Fresh Baklava. Get it while it's…still somewhat together," Casey announced warily as she came out into the living room with a tray.

Lizzie stood anxiously behind her, and Derek off in the corner as Casey presented it to Aunt May.

"This doesn't look like Baklava," was May's snotty reply.

"Yeah, well, it's with a slight…" Casey gestured vaguely with her hands, "Canadian twist. You should try some."

"I would, but I'd rather keep my appetite for the next week, if you don't mind."

"Oh, but I insist you have a bite-"

"And, I insist you stop nagging me and find something productive to you with your-"

"_HEY_!" Three heads jerked towards Derek as he walked out of the corner. When he realized the attention he'd garnered, he swallowed and repeated more weakly, "Hey."

" 'Hey' what?" May demanded, besides herself.

Derek faltered a little under her look, but pressed on. "You shouldn't—you…she worked really hard to make that Banklavoo…"

"Baklava," Casey corrected numbly.

"Whatever. And, it tastes good. I still don't know what is, but it tastes good. So maybe, maybe you could show a little gratitude for once," his mouth dried and he added lamely, "if that's alright with you...?"

Casey's gaze set in a wide, soft expression as Derek watched his Aunt expectantly.

"Well," May finally said after a long moment, "Look who finally grew a backbone," she chortled, "Ha! You're granddad would be proud…and probably drunk, but thrilled the nonetheless," she glanced at Casey, "Um, and well, thank you, I suppose for this…unique dining opportunity. Of course, I'll still pass on tasting it."

She cleared her throat and promptly left the room.

"Huh," Lizzie responded, looking around, "I don't know about you guys, but I feel pretty good about that."

_IIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

"Mr. Ducky?" Casey rasped when her door creaked and she saw a shadowy figure approaching her bed.

"No, it's me."

"Oh," she rubbed her eyes and slid up in her bed, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just couldn't sleep."

"Thinking about your Aunt?" she guessed softly.

"And Grandma."

Her face scrunched with empathy and she patted the mattress next to her. "Come here, Derek."

When he sat tensely on her bed, his back to her, she slid behind him and wrapped her arms protectively around him. She rested her chin on his shoulder and murmured into his ear, "You don't have to talk."

"I know," he sighed and his head fell against hers , "It's just weird, you know…I mean, most of time I hated Aunt May and she was always insanely mean, even when Grandma was still around…"

Casey could see he was struggling and she stroked his chest, encouraging.

"…but she was there. She took care of me and yeah she yelled and cursed at me a lot…but she was always there, you know…it's" he shook his head, "It's stupid…"

"It's not stupid," she said gently, "She was there for you during a really scary, vulnerable time. It makes sense that you'd have an attachment to her…"

"Yeah, I guess," he stared down at his hands, "Something about her being here again after so long…it just…took me back to being six again…"

"You're not the same boy you were when you were six," her hand caressed his face and she she tilted it to look at him, "You're a man now. And, you're a good man. With flaws, yes, like every other human being on the face of the earth…but you're good, really good."

"You think so?" he asked, and his eyes were dark, but his lips quirked slightly.

"I know so. You're strong… and kind…and charming…" she planted soft kisses on his mouth with each phrase, "And, you're not too shabby with a stick and puck either…"

"Are you trying to stroke my ego?"

"Yes," she admitted, "But, you deserve it. Especially after so strappingly coming to my defense today," she smiled softly and let her hand trace up and down his chest, "The stuttering was very Hugh Grant in_Notting Hill_."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Mmmhmmm."

"Huh," He nodded, apparently satisfied, before shifting towards her and adding,"Then you were very Hot woman in every hot woman movie."

"Did you like the hair or the dress?"

"I liked the you…"

Her eyes lit playfully. "Hmm, that was good, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was," Derek agreed, his gazed amused, but genuine, "You're a very... 'impressive young lady'."

"Oh, god, are you really trying to use Aunt Mayisms to score with me now?"

He shrugged. "Is it working?"

"Maybe," she answered demurely.

"Maybe?" he repeated, leaning closer.

"I guess you'll just have to come and find out."

Her nose bumped his, teasingly, and he smirked before brushing his lips to hers and then deepening it as she leaned into him. "How's it working so far?" he whispered cheekily.

"You are a very, very impressive young man."


End file.
